


Children of Silk

by Naomyx



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, F/M, Happy Ending, Inspired By Sense8, M/M, Past Abuse, Sense8 AU, Some angst, Victor spelled as Viktor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:29:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naomyx/pseuds/Naomyx
Summary: A new year and a new season that challenges these skaters far beyond they thought possible. After finding out the possibility of being more than just your average human, Viktor Nikiforov and eight others must do everything they can to avoid getting caught and persecuted.Viktor honestly just wants to eventually have the wedding.Yuuri is pretty sure there is barely time for that with the weight of the world on their shoulders.Or: that sense8-ish AU nobody asked for, but I wanted to do anyways.





	1. Alive

**Author's Note:**

> If you ever watched Sense8, you would know a bit of what's coming up here. I'm still considering wether upping the rating and putting the "possible orgy" tag, if you think I should, feel free to comment. This fic is made entirely to satisfy my needs of seeing my two favorite shows mix together.
> 
> Note: Otabek and Yuri do end up together, but under much age appropriate circumstances (mostly(?)). I know this is an issue for some of the fandom. 
> 
> Final Note: While I am fluent in English and Spanish and some Portuguese, my knowledge stops there. Most of the other languages present here are translated by Google so a million of apologies if they are incorrect.

 

 

**January 2017  
St.Petersburg, Russia**

Makkachin contemplated his bowl impatiently, and then looked up at one of his passing masters with a loud bark. Not that either of them were paying attention to him, they were far busier yelling at each other and running around the penthouse. The poodle let out a dog sigh, and rested his head on his paws to continue staring forlornly at his empty food bowl.

"Viktor, I swear to God," Yuuri ran an exasperated hand across his already disheveled hair, feeling a headache coming in. He dropped the luggage that he had been carrying in his other hand by the door. "We only have ten more minutes until the taxi arrives, Viktor!"

When he got no response, Yuuri groaned, hanging his head. While living with Viktor certainly got it's perks, like the craved privacy with his fiancé that they never could've had back at his parents' inn, there were many personal things that Yuuri hadn't thought could've been a problem. Viktor was a textbook morning person, like the kind to wake up at the crack of dawn no matter what time he fell asleep the night before, and Yuuri was for sure the exact opposite, with him being a night owl and hating the sight of the morning more than anything. At first retrospect, this should've caused a great balance between them, Yuuri setting up their luggages the night before so they'd be ready for the next day, and Viktor preparing breakfast and waking Yuuri up in the morning in either the sweetest or dirtiest ways possible (depending on his mood). However, this retrospect failed to include Yakov's extreme training regimen to get Viktor back to competition shape, the making of Viktor's new short and free programs for this season, Viktor's own tough coaching towards Yuuri's programs, and Lilia's stern insistence with the continued practice of Yuuri's ballet, which left them too exhausted to do much other than eat and sleep, and resulted in a tension build-up between them that can sometimes only be released with some intense morning sex that could last long enough for the breakfast to get cold due to Yuuri's not easily tired stamina and they would end up arriving late to the ice rink on a normal day, and in this particular case, having very little time to get prepared to leave for the airport.

Makkachin whined by Yuuri's feet. The Japanese man smiled down at the poodle, kneeling before him and ruffling his neck fur, laughing at the dog kisses he's begun to receive. Despite their tiresome schedules, Yuuri was happy, happier than he has ever been. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Yuuri looked up expectantly. "Viktor! Has Makkachin eaten yet?"

Viktor paused by the hallway, two rolling luggages in each hand, blinking at Yuuri and Makkachin slowly. The sight they make always warms Viktor's heart and distracts him from whatever he has been thinking before.

Yuuri thinned his lips in an attempt to not laugh at his fiancé's ridiculous lovestruck expression. "Vitya?"

At the familiar diminutive, Viktor smiled brightly. "Yes, _moya lyubov'_ (my love)?"

"Makkachin?"

Viktor gasped, letting go of the luggages like they were fire and turning around to the kitchen. "Oh, Makka, food!"

Yuuri chuckled, watching Makkachin make a mad dash to follow his forgetful master. He straightened up, dusting his pants from Makkachin's leftover hair when his phone binged. Taking it out of his pocket, he rolled his brown eyes at the message.

YURIO  
_Better hurry up before Yakov has a heart attack, Katsudon!!!_

At another bing, Yuuri raised his eyebrows.

PHICHIT  
<picture attachment>  
_What do you think of these flowers for the wedding???_

Deciding to respond to his best friend later, _much_ later, he began typing a message to Yuri.

_We're on our way._

Like the work of God, Viktor reappeared with a phone in hand and on his ear speaking rushed Russian when Yuuri shoved his phone back in his pocket. Yuuri still hasn't entirely gotten the hang of the language (except for the curse words Yuri has taken time and effort to teach him) but he understood enough by Viktor's look that their taxi was here. He shooed Viktor ahead, taking his luggages and following him out the door, making sure to wave goodbye at Makkachin, hoping that their neighbor would once again take good care of him, and taking his own luggage to put it on top of one of Viktor's rolling ones, locking the front door once they were out.

Viktor hanged up when they entered the elevator and turned to Yuuri, observing him put the luggages to lean agaisnt the wall while they waited to reach the first floor. "Yuuri, look at me."

Yuuri turned to him with a soft look and Viktor pulled him closer by the waist, his other hand brushing back Yuuri's black hair behind his ear. They locked eyes and said nothing for a while, the only sound being the piano elevator music.

"Are you nervous?" Yuuri spoke gently, searching in teal blue eyes. As they grew closer, Yuuri found out Viktor wore many masks to hide what he was really feeling. Wether this was the result of P.R. training since he was young or trauma is still unknown to Yuuri, but ever since he found out, he did everything to make sure Viktor always felt comfortable to truly express himself. It was the least he could do. To meet him where he was, like Viktor had always done for him and his reoccurring anxiety issues.

Viktor licked his lips, breathing in through his nose. "I am. Nervous, I mean. I never...It was tough getting back to competition shape. Like I told you, I almost feared it was too late for me to return. But..." Yuuri nooded encouragingly, raising a hand to cup his cheek. Viktor closed his eyes and continued softly. "Despite this...Yuuri."

He opened his eyes and smiled tenderly. "I have never felt so alive."

Yuuri's eyes sparkled like they always do when he has something great in mind. In this case, it was his soon-to-be husband coming back to the world he belonged to.

The elevator doors opened and they both turned to face the paparazzi and the flashing lights. Yuuri breathed in deeply and took Viktor's hand.

They each took a luggage and headed straight forward.

Viktor squeezed Yuuri's hand, thumb tracing the golden ring.

Back to the ice where they both belonged.

 

**Hasetsu, Kyushu, Japan**

Mari blew out smoke while she watched the sport news, her brother and Viktor coming out of their apartment building swarmed by cameras and questions. She wondered if the paparazzi ever had a life of their own. Can't they just let them head to the airport in peace? Below her sat Minako, sipping on sake, humming thoughtfully.

_"Poui sentirlo (Can you feel it)?"_

Mari glanced to her side, seeing a man with crossed arms in front him, purple eyes hard. She contemplated him for a moment.

"Feel what?"

Minako didn't even look Mari's way when she seemingly spoke to thin air. It wasn't anything to worry about.

_"Cambio (Change)."_

Mari observed Viktor respond to a question about his new programs before entering the taxi. His glowing eyes and blinding grin. Yuuri can be seen inside the car, smiling sheepishly, hair long enough to cover his eyebrows and touch the blue rim of his glasses, and tugging at the hand that held the gleaming gold. They both looked so happy, so in the element. Yes, Mari thought to herself, change indeed.

"They're attracting too much attention," Minako murmured, eyes glazed with her alcohol consumption, leaning her body towards the short table. She could feel two energies shift inside her the moment she spoke and resisted the desire to chug another round. "People are starting to notice."

_"Let them notice."_

_"Vremya prishlo (It is time)."_

"Oh! Vicchan! Yuuri!" Hiroko paused at the doorway with a basket full of used towels to smile at her son and his coach.

Mari and Minako shared a gaze. To everybody else, the two women were alone in the TV room as Utopia Akatsuki Hot Springs buzzed with activity.

In a different aspect of reality, there were three others.

"It won't be long until March," Mari purposely spoke English when her mother left so they wouldn't be eavesdropped on by anyone. Mari had long intended to have a talk with Minako about what was occurring, the shift in the air and the sensation of foreboding climax ever since Viktor Nikiforov made an appearance. But it seemed like Minako didn't want to converse much of what will soon be happening. The older woman came often, got drunk, and spoke very little of what she and her constellation were concluding. And here Mari was under the impression they were supposed to be all-knowing.

"That's only if we're right about the boy," Minako clucked her tongue, dark brown eyes glowing a slight gold. She flinched at the wave of irritation she felt that wasn't hers.

_"By znayete, chto ya prav, vam prosto nuzhno bol'she vremeni (You know I'm right, you just want more time)."_

Minako gave a sad smile at Mari's inquiring look. Mari understood just from her face.

"Ah," Mari put the cigarette out at the ashtray on the table when she heard a call for her from her father. "Little hope you're wrong then. Begin preparing yourself."

Minako watched her leave, Mari's nexus partner disappearing from the room as well. She rested her head on the wooden table and closed her eyes. She just felt like everything was too soon. Yuuri had probably just begun to feel better, more accomplished. She has seen what the others have had to go through once their identities are known to the arrays. She hadn't ever wanted that for Yuuri, having watched him grow and give his everything for his dreams. For a long time, she rejected the truth with excuses, her constellation partners have been disheartened with her lack of initiative, until, of course, the boy.

You simply can't be in denial forever.

  
**Moscow, Russia**

"Only thirty more minutes until the second flight boarding. Go eat and make sure you all don't go too far. Lilia and I will take care of your luggages," Yakov grumbled, energy already having been spent on the first flight over to Moscow. Viktor worried he was getting much older than he let on as he watched him sit down by the gate. Lilia stood and headed to the empty cafe closest to the terminal with a click of her heels.

At least he'd be taken care of, Viktor thought while looking at Lilia come back with two coffees.

Mila wasted no time in taking Yuuri's hand and whisking him away before Viktor could even turn around. All Viktor was able to see was Yuuri waving goodbye confusedly before they turned a corner. If Viktor were a more jealous man, he definitely would've felt triggered into stopping them (while he wasn't possessive, he could confess, but only to himself, that he was largely physically and emotionally clingy with Yuuri). But Viktor was glad Yuuri was getting along nicely with his Russian team, it was the only family he had after all. Mila specially seemed invested in making a friendship with Yuuri, enough to compete with Yuri (who would deny it with a snarl).

"Oh, how love betrays you," Georgi sighed mournfully beside him.

Viktor set his jaw and gave the melodramatic man an unamused look. "Still thinking of Anya, Georgi? Aren't you dating that new girl? Natasha, wasn't it?"

Georgi's expression became grimmer, the top of his spiked hair even drooping a little. "Yes, Natasha. Sadly, Anya appeared before me in a dream. I swear, Viktor, how am I ever supposed to get over that woman? _Blayd'_ (Fuck)!" He swiftly gave Viktor his back to hide his tears and promptly walked away.

Young Yuri gave Viktor an unimpressed glance at the scene. "You just had to?"

Viktor looked down at the blond. He seemed fidgety today, looking at his phone and then looking back up around him aimlessly as if trying to search for an answer to whatever his phone plagued him with. Or maybe...was he actually nervous? "Yura, is something wrong?"

Yuri sniffed undignified at the affectionate diminutive the Russian team insisted on giving him since Yuuri's arrival, at least it was better than Yurio, not that he'd ever admit it. He thrust his phone and headphones to Viktor's hands, who blinked and held unto them as Yuri tied his rather long blond hair into a ponytail (once Viktor had joked that the Yu(u)ris were attempting to recreate his past long hair, while Yuuri was cute with his blushing and fruitless denial, Yuri wasn't having it by the kick to the shin he gave Viktor). Finished, Yuri snatched back his phone and headphones from Viktor's hands and looked straight at his face with an odd facial expression (is he constipated?). "Eat with me."

Viktor nodded but it's not like Yuri saw, having already marched ahead.

"Youth," Viktor snickered humorously.

At the food court, Viktor was able to spot Yuuri and Mila sitting beside the taco stand. Mila made some exuberant motions with her hands, brushing her short red hair out of the way whenever she leaned over to take a bite of her burrito. She must be saying something Yuuri would consider embarrassing, because the Japanese man blushed and shook his head vigorously a couple times. It amused Viktor to see his fiancé from afar like this, handsome and shy. This was a classic Yuuri that was only present around those he felt comfortable, but it wasn't all to him. A small smirk formed on Viktor's face at the reminder that his student was not as innocent as he exuded.

"Don't make me barf," Yuri said next to him when he noticed he wasn't being followed anymore. It wasn't spoken as harsh as the first few times. In fact, when Viktor glanced his way, Yuri was staring at Yuuri with a delicate frown. The teen shook his head and raised an eyebrow at the taller man. "Do you want a sandwich? The usual?"

"Sure," Viktor's eyes softened. "Where do you want to sit?"

"Ew. Here is fine, I'll go get them," Yuri left with a twirl of his heel, hands stuffed inside his leopard print jacket's pockets.

Viktor sat down at the table next to the fountain that was at the middle of the food court. Yuuri was a bit farther than before, but it seemed he noticed Viktor behind Mila anyways (it shouldn't have been difficult to spot Viktor because of his unique platinum hair after all), flashing a small smile his way. Viktor's heart skipped and he smiled back in response, feeling light. He wondered if this honeymoon stage would ever leave. In the depth of himself, he hoped it never did.

"Mr. Nikiforov!"

Viktor jumped, a little startled, and looked to the side to witness Yuri practically being dragged back to him by two teenage girls. They must be fans and American at that. Tourists, Viktor mused.

"It's such a pleasure!" One of them gushed.

"Can I have your autograph?" The other anxiously played with the poster delicately perched in her hands.

Viktor grinned. "Of course, anything for the ladies." He added a wink and laughed at the expected squeals. Yuri visibly cringed but seemed grateful to be let go of, slamming the tray with their sandwiches and drinks on the table.

After the autograph and a photo with the both of them (Yuri has gotten pretty famous ever since the Grand Prix and Russian Nationals gold) the girls scurried off only to notice Mila and Yuuri and head straight to them as well. Must be their lucky day.

Viktor watched Yuuri get adorably flustered and smiled softly, an index finger resting on his lips thoughtfully. Even after Yuuri's silver in the Grand Prix and the gold of the Japanese Nationals, he was lacking confidence and direction on how to deal with his fans. Viktor would have to talk to him again to see if they could work through that, it was, of course, part of his job as his coach. Not that the fans minded either way, the girls looked like they loved him even more after the awkward interaction. Mila also helped with her overly friendly personality.

Viktor looked back at Yuri, who was angrily munching on his sandwich and glaring at the table. "It must've taken a lot of energy not to hiss at those girls if you're taking your anger out at the table, Yura~?"

Yuri threw him his sandwich violently, making Viktor catch it with a chuckle. They ate in silence for a moment. It was comfortable, Viktor missed this. Before going to Japan (more like before he fell head over heels at the Sochi banquet for a drunk Japanese man and practically flying on Makkachin to Japan in search for him after the video Viktor still insists was destiny/a mating call), Viktor and Yuri spent a lot of time together, to the point that Viktor's penthouse had a room just for Yuri whenever he decided he wanted a break from staying with Yakov. They both barely had family, and Yuri was independent and hard at work to send his grandfather and sick mother the money he won in competitions. It ended up leaving him with barely enough to get by, Yakov and Viktor especially noticing after he started losing too much weight to be acceptable. While Yakov took him in, Viktor made sure to eat lunch as frequently as he could with him. Viktor's chronic loneliness also lead to a lot of movie and video game (even though he sucked so badly) nights. Since moving back to St. Petersburg, it hasn't really been the same, with Nationals, training, and Yuuri. Viktor hoped that with time they could all hang out together more.

"So, you aren't meeting with Kolya today?" Viktor decided to start the conversation. He looked down at his sandwich and grinned at the perfectly picked ingredients. Yuri had good memory.

Yuri made a face and shook his head, gulping down his bite. "He wasn't feeling well enough to come and see me for only 30 minutes."

Viktor nodded sympathetically, eating his food as if it were the greatest (he always does this). "Ah, is that why you're so down today? You aren't feeling nervous with competing against me, are you?"

Yuri scoffed at Viktor's cocky smirk and opened his mouth as if to rightfully spite him before closing it and looking away with a frown. "Viktor."

"Mmm?"

"I apologize."

Viktor almost choked on his bite of the sandwich, swallowing quickly and coughing. He looked at Yuri with wide eyes. "Apologize? For what?"

Yuri scrunched his nose as if this pained him. "You know what. I thought you were done, but I saw you work harder than I've ever seen you to get back in the competition. I doubted you cause honestly old man, when do you plan to retire and just stay coaching?"

Viktor stared at him as if he grew a second head. "You don't have to apologize about it. You were right."

"Hah?!"

"Viktor Nikiforov is dead," Viktor grimaced at his sandwich as he set it down. He looked over Yuri's head to see Yuuri laughing at something Mila said. "He has been dead for a fairly long time. While your timing was abysmal in declaring the obvious, I _was_ happily enjoying being engaged you know, it did help me realize that I wanted to continue skating. This time, not just for the audience, but for the love I have for it, and for Yuuri."

Viktor glanced back at Yuri and gave him a more honest grin. "I should be thanking you for declaring it so openly. I am no longer the untouchable and unbeatable Viktor Nikiforov. You and Yuuri have made your history marks and have beaten my records. The Viktor Nikiforov that I am now is eager to compete against such history makers. Suffice to say, I won't go down easily, despite my overwhelming love for both your success, because I still have a lot left to say on the ice."

Yuri stared at Viktor for a second more before clearing his throat. "So, after you're done saying whatever on the ice, you'll continue to coach?"

Viktor nodded. "I'm still thinking as I go, but at this rate I realize that my life will always be tied to the ice, and coaching is one of the best ways to remain as close to it as possible." He paused and raised an eyebrow at Yuri. "Are you interested in being a student of mine?"

Yuri looked off to the side, the bridge of his nose dusting pink. He wished he had his hair down so he could've hidden behind it. "Yakov won't last forever, you're seeing him right now, he isn't even yelling as much anymore."

"I get what you mean," Viktor laughed softly, cocking his head to the side. "Well, I certainly won't reject such a promising student, even if he's an angry little kitten-"

"Shut up."

"But," Viktor held out his index finger. "You have to make sure I'm what you're looking for as a coach. I work a bit differently now than last time I taught you Agape."

"I've been watching you with Katsudon," Yuri nodded fervently, locking gazes with Viktor. "I know what I want. As soon as Yakov retires."

Viktor clucked his tongue. "Alright then, Yura." He crossed his arms on top of the table, watching the teen deflating as if that took his entire energy. "You know, my doors are still open to you regardless. You are always welcome."

Yuri looked up at him in surprise, green eyes wide and unblinking. "I am?"

Viktor smiled again, chin resting on the palm of his hand. "Of course. You are family. And Yuuri likes you. I don't know why you're surprised."

Yuri was actually very excited (Viktor had the best internet connection in Russia and even had a few gaming consoles Yuri just knows the older man hasn't paid attention to, also, Yuri was dead tired of hanging with senior people) but tried his best to hide it by taking out his phone and mumbling. "Whatever."

Viktor reached over and pat his head. "Good kitten."

  
Yuuri gasped at the sudden weight that had gotten on his shoulders. "Yuuuuuuri..."

"Viktor!" Yuuri turned around to accept his fiancé's octopus-like embrace, his arms wrapping around the taller man's waist. "Something wrong?"

Viktor leaned back a little so Yuuri could see his ridiculous pout. "Yura attacked me unprovoked! See?" He pointed to his cloth-covered shoulder as if there was an actual visible injury. "Kiss it?"

Yuri made a puking noise by their side when Yuuri rolled his eyes and just kissed Viktor's nose. "Disgusting."

Viktor flushed at the affection, blue eyes glistening and mouth heart-shaped. He nuzzled his face on Yuuri's neck, arms tight around his fiancé's shoulders.

Yuuri laughed softly, a little taken aback by Viktor's emotions and just a tiny bit uncomfortable with the open PDA. Nonetheless, he squeezed his arms around his lover's middle and gave Yuri a smile. "Did you have a good lunch, Yura?"

Yuri snickered. "Yes. I hope you're ready to get brutally defeated at Mario Kart, I got this idiot's permission."

Viktor gasped theatrically, stepping back from Yuuri's arms and placing a hand on his heart. "Did you two conspire against me?! The betrayal!"

Both Yu(u)ris rolled their eyes at Viktor's dramatics and proceeded to ignore him.

"Don't underestimate me too much, Yurio."

"Hah! If I win, you'll have to make me katsudon when I come over, but you won't have any and I'll eat it right in front of you!"

"If I win, you have to make us some katsudon piroshki."

"You're on, Piggy."

Viktor watched them go with a bright smile on his face. Oh, how he loved the sight of Yuuri getting along with his little family.

_"Viktor?"_

" _Oui_ (Yes)?" Viktor turned around, blinking when he saw no one paying attention to him at the vast busy airport. He swore he heard someone call his name. A shivering sensation went through him and suddenly, he wasn't at the airport any longer.

  
**Geneva, Switzerland**

Viktor gasped, tripping over his own feet as he suddenly found himself skating on ice. He could hear a man speaking to him in French but the shock of the change had him reeling and he didn't hear clearly enough what he had said. His body felt weird and out of place and even the gasp from before wasn't his own. The light was blinding him for some reason and all he could actually see were his hands (tan?) holding unto his knees. Before he could settle down and try to not panic, everything morphed again and went dark.

 

 


	2. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri, Viktor, and team are on their way to Europeans. 
> 
> Chris figures out he isn't alone.
> 
> Chihoko makes a wild appearance.
> 
> Leo discovers he isn't in a horror movie.
> 
> And Otabek is pretty sure Yuri is luckier than he admits to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you guys haven't heard, Sense8 is getting a 2-hour special next year!! So, everything isn't that bad at least.)
> 
> Warning, this chapter contains some references of child abuse. I haven't put it in the tags because I think this is as deep as it will ever get into it until further chapters.

 

  
**Moscow, Russia**

Yuuri stopped walking at the sound of a grunt and a thud. He frowned and looked behind him with Yuri following his lead until he gasped at seeing Viktor on the ground. "Viktor!"

Viktor was gasping as if having run a mile, blinking repeatedly, highly disorientated for a moment as he kneeled on the floor. Yuuri and Yuri had run up to him, glancing at each other before Yuuri placed a hand on Viktor's shoulder. "Vitya, are you okay? Did you fall?"

Viktor took in a deep breath, reaching to place his hand on Yuuri's and squeezing it softly in comfort. He was extremely perplexed as to what just happened. He'd never experienced anything like that in his life. For a second, he could've sworn...

"Yes, I'm okay, I just tripped. Silly me," Viktor stood, brushing his black dress pants and blue coat, Yuuri letting go of his shoulder. He didn't know how to explain what just occurred, an unprecedented real feeling of being in a completely other place and then suddenly back here. Was he losing his mind? Did he daydream for a millisecond so vividly? Was that even possible?

"Vitya! Yura, Yuuri! Let's go!" Yakov yelled at them at the gate, reminding them their plane was about to be boarded.

"Be more careful old man," Yuri rolled his eyes at Viktor, putting on his headphones and heading towards the rest of the Russian team. Yuuri noticed Lilia staring quite intensely at Viktor before glancing at Yuuri and looking away.

Yuuri stood beside Viktor, taking his hand to get his attention and narrowing his eyes at him. "Are you sure you're okay? You looked so confused, like you didn't even know where you were."

Viktor looked down at him and knew Yuuri wouldn't be satisfied with his flimsy answer. He felt a wave of gratitude that Yuuri now knew him more than anyone, and he trusted his fiancé more than anything. What just happened, however, how does one go at explaining it? An intense whiplash? He can't just tell Yuuri that for an instant it felt like he switched bodies with someone in an ice rink that looked to be the one from Geneva out of all places. Yuuri, understanding and kind Yuuri, would surely think his fiancé and long time idol is going mad or going through some post-traumatic stress episode (maybe that was all it was?). Viktor wasn't sure if he was sane himself after having witnessed that. "Perhaps we could talk about it later?" He needed time to organize his thoughts and figure out what the hell just transpired.

Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows together, knowing that whatever it was, it bothered Viktor deeply, but he nodded. He understood when one needed time to collect themselves. He glanced at Viktor's front coat pocket. "I think your phone is vibrating, Vitya."

So lost in thought he didn't feel the vibration, Viktor gave Yuuri a sheepish look before letting go of his hand and taking it out. Chris?

Yuuri observed the caller ID and glanced ahead. "I'll take out our tickets from our luggages for the inspection, go and pick it up."

"Ah," Viktor watched him leave with tense shoulders and a swing of his own light cream coat. Great. A few weeks ago, Viktor and Yuuri had had the 'ex' talk, kind of. It's not that Yuuri was shocked about Viktor and Chris's past sexual relationship (there were some intense rumors from when Chris's coach accidentally caught them in a very compromising position and Chris has always been overly affectionate) and Viktor himself wasn't exactly bothered to have found out about Phichit and Yuuri's 'almost' sexual encounter (although if he were honest, if it had been a relationship, he would've been a little more then just concerned. Viktor was a dangerously petty man after all, that much was evident after the Chihoko misunderstanding, and Phichit and Yuuri were far more emotionally bonded than Chris and him ever had been so in Viktor's eyes he had much more to worry about anyways), but what was surprising to both was Yuuri's very real jealousy and Viktor's very real glee of it.

 _"I've never had a relationship like this before,"_ Yuuri had told him with a conflicted expression after the whole Chihoko incident, hands tracing Viktor's fingers delicately. _"You've always been in the corner of my mind since I could remember. Always been the one for me, wether I wanted to admit it or not. I knew, somehow. That no matter how much I tried with anyone else..."_ He had paused here, bringing Viktor's right hand to his face and kissing the ring, long lashes fluttering closed. _"I could search the whole world, nobody is better than you."_

While Viktor had assured him with all of his heart that if he'd have known about Yuuri earlier in his life, he would've waited a thousand years and worlds to be with him and only him, Viktor still found Yuuri making a face whenever Chris texted and called him. Yuuri never complained though, and Viktor found himself severely enjoying Yuuri's possessive looks and touches too much later on.

 _"I'd never leave you,"_ Viktor had said at Nationals after Chris called to show his support for Yuuri (Chris and Yuuri were friends despite the whole jealousy thing, much like how Viktor and Phichit got along by trading Yuuri pictures to post online). _"You are my love and my life."_

Yuuri had went on to perform a record breaking performance in Japan afterwards in both short and free programs, reinstating and redeclaring his position as Japan's powerful Ace, winning by a large 26 points margin.

If Viktor had to reassure Yuuri every day, and get that type of success and exuberance, he'll do it gladly until the day he dies.

Viktor sighed with a little smile, mometarily forgetting about the whole out of body experience he had earlier (Viktor was usually very easily distracted), and tapped his phone to answer, raising it to his ear and brushing his hair out of his face. " _Oui_ (Yes)?"

 _"Ma'cherie (my sweetheart), where do you find yourself today?"_ Chris's voice was unusually off, not the customary sultry tone that Viktor was used to receiving by his best friend.

"At the airport! Shouldn't you be on your way preparing for the Europeans as well?" Maybe something has happened at his side? Viktor had been very excited to compete against the Swiss man again, and he knew the sentiment went both ways. He hoped he wasn't about to receive some bad news.

 _"My flight leaves later, Geneva isn't so far from Ostrava,"_ Chris paused and Viktor took a moment to analyze what he said and why it irked him. Geneva?

"Chris-"

_"What kind of coat do you have on, Viktor? Color?"_

Viktor froze, eyes wide, heart beating faster by the minute. It couldn't be, could it? "A blue one."

There was an audible intake of breath on the other line. The tension between them was thick and dawning. It was like an approaching avalanche, a realization too surreal to consider a possibility, but was too correct in assumption to deny it.

"Chris...were you skating in the Geneva ice rink a few minutes ago?"

There was silence and trepidation as Viktor waited for an answer. After what felt like forever, Chris responded with an uncharacteristic shaky voice.

_"Merde (Shit)! Did we just switch bodies, Viktor?"_

Viktor thinned his lips, eyes darting toward the mention of his name to see Yuuri waving at him by the opened gate with a worried frown. He began walking towards him, the airport security standing by the entrance signaling him to hurry up as he got closer. Yakov had set them up for first class, which probably meant that everyone else in line beside the gate were waiting on him to board. Viktor felt on autopilot, believing and disbelieving, his mind not really into it as he took Yuuri's waiting hand and let Yuuri take the lead after he gave Viktor a searching look. Viktor wonders what Yuuri saw in his expression. Did he look as insane as he felt? But if it wasn't just him, if Chris had felt it too, it must be real right? They weren't going crazy were they? If he admits to it, what would happen? Maybe it was only a one time thing? Viktor's head swirled with the possibilities, and in the mix decided to keep this a secret from Yuuri for a few more minutes. "Chris, _je me sentais comme si j'étais là. Je pense que j'ai entendu l'entraîneur Josef. Nous ne sommes pas devenus fous, n'est-ce pas? M'as-tu senti_ (I felt like I was there, Chris. I think I even heard Coach Josef. We aren't going crazy, are we? Did you feel me)?"

Yuuri gave Viktor a disapproving grimace at the French but said nothing. Viktor squeezed his hand in his almost pleadingly apologetic.

 _"Je t'ai senti (I felt you)."_ Chris sounded winded, equally as astonished, saying nothing of the language change.  _"I got dizzy, and then I felt you, and then I saw you, walking to Yuuri and Russian Yuri. I called for you, I think, and then...oh God, is this really happening? For me, it was like I was watching you at the beginning, but when you turned and looked straight at me-"_

" _Je ne vous ai pas vu_ (I didn't see you)." Viktor ducked his head as they boarded the plane, the head stewardess greeting them giving him a stern look because of his cellphone that he ignored. " _Je vous ai entendu, mais alors j'étais là, à l'intérieur de vous, Je pense. Étiez-vous vêtu de pantalons de yoga sur la glace_ (I heard you, but then I was over there, _inside_  of you, I think. Were you wearing yoga pants on the ice)?" Viktor gave a little laugh at Chris's snort.

_"They're the ones Phichit sent me. They say 'Dat Ass' on my butt. I find it motivating."_

Viktor chuckled, feeling delirious. Despite how weird this was, it was kind of amazing. No, not kind of, it was an _outstanding_ phenomenon. Mildly, like an afterthought, it reminded him of the time he was sixteen years old and saw an angel standing above his bed with a glowing golden sword. He had went through the worst fever of his life at the time, one of the only few times he ever got sick, and had outright laughed at the sight until he blacked out. In the morning, he felt a thousand times better, and he told Lilia and Yakov about what he saw. Yakov had rolled his eyes and had said he was probably seeing things due to the fever. Lilia had looked straight at him but said nothing, probably thinking the same as Yakov. He doesn't exactly know what brought back this part of the memory. " _C'est fou_ , Chris. _Nous sommes si fous_ (This is insane, Chris. We sound so insane)."

 _"At least we're not alone in this? We can talk more about it later, after I beat you at Europeans. I just wanted to make sure what just happened was real?"_ Chris said the last word doubtfully, but he was right. They had other things to focus on. As otherworldly as it was what they just witnessed, Viktor knew finding answers for it, at least right now, was quite useless. Viktor had heard many tales of the supernatural from his grandparents, stories of fairies and witches, and as a child, Viktor had felt ethereal running through their gardens before-. Before.

With a strained smile, Viktor hummed in agreement. Yuuri was still leading him through the isle, looking at the tickets and looking up again to make sure he's setting their carry on above the correct seats. Earlier, Viktor distantly remembers a stewardess offering Yuuri help, but he had shook his head, wanting to do it himself. It was such a Yuuri thing to do. Yuuri had to let go of his hand to set the bags with Viktor's outfits for his programs (Viktor was very paranoid about them getting lost, and if they would've let sharp things in the plane, he would've forced his way through with his ice skates as well) and their necessary belongings on the shelf space provided. Viktor observed the way his biceps moved before snapping back to reality.

"I understand what you mean. It is calming to be reassured," at his switch to English, Yuuri glanced at him above his shoulder. Viktor winked at him, only to receive an eye roll. "I have to go now, Chris. Give it your best, so I can beat you fairly. We shall meet on the ice."

Chris laughed airily at the other end. _"Bonne chance, Viktor. (Good luck, Viktor)."_

Viktor hung up at the same time Yuuri sat down by the window, sliding his phone into his front pocket. The white seats at first class were far roomier and comfortable than any other seats on the plane. In this particular airline, each row had two seats at each side that could recline back for naps and had a curtain for added privacy. Viktor intended to use that curtain for most of the flight. Before settling down, Viktor looked around, spotting Yuri and Georgi a few sets back and Lilia and Yakov up front. Mila seemed to have already pulled the curtain closed at her seat, since Viktor failed to notice where she was seated. The pair skaters that were traveling with them were already passed out across to Yuuri and Viktor's seats. He squinted and was able to see the bathroom door. There weren't many sitting in first class, so Viktor decided he'd go freshen up later.

He sat down and sighed heavily, stretching and deliberately getting his right arm in Yuuri's space. Yuuri smacked the offending limb away before it could knock his phone out of his hand. Viktor chuckled. "Are you mad, _zoloste_ (gold)?"

Yuuri put down his phone by the holders at the side of the seat and turned to look completely at Viktor. Viktor had to restrain a giggle at Yuuri's face, all frown and intense pout (he'd never tell Yuuri that he sometimes looks like he's pouting when he's mad, Viktor doesn't have a death wish). "Why were you speaking in French?"

Ah, so direct. Viktor smiled a bit tightly, inclining his head to the side. Viktor by nature wasn't a good liar, specially not to Yuuri, and after that that time he did try lying to motivate his precious student (it was complete and utter chaos. That's the day he found out Yuuri was an ugly cryer, but beautiful all the same), he promised himself he wouldn't try it again with him. So. "I'll talk to you about it later, I promise."

Yuuri eyed him wearily, just knowing he was hiding something important. It bothered him a little that Chris probably knew and not him. He tried shrugging it off, turning his body away from Viktor and staring out the window. He heard Viktor sigh dejectedly and Yuuri resisted the urge to huff. "You promise?"

"Of course!"

Viktor sounded surprised and eager to Yuuri's ears, and he couldn't help the smile that stretched across his face. He was being irrational (or just his usual anxious self). Viktor always meant well. He hid his secrets well, Yuuri knew this from the amount of times he's tried to get him to speak of his family since their arrival at St. Petersburg. Viktor seemed too uncomfortable all those tries, avoiding the subject expertly, and Yuuri stopped when he noticed it seemed to hurt him too much. Yuuri didn't want to cause Viktor any hardships, he's done so much for him already. But Yuuri had also felt like he should know, or at least, know why it was so unspeakable, so he can help him shoulder the pain. He had respected his wishes however. He loved Viktor regardless of whatever family history lies within, and he'd continue to love him even if he'd never find out.

 _"I'll tell you one day about them,"_ Viktor had said one night in their bed, their naked bodies intertwined and his head resting on Yuuri's chest. _"But for now, I just want to be happy with you. Let it be this way for a while longer."_

Yuuri had agreed to his terms, brushing Viktor's hair back when Viktor looked up at him, chin resting on Yuuri's chest, hopeful and vulnerable. Yuuri had fallen in love with him all over again.

Viktor, with his childlike glee and his glowing charisma. Viktor, with his unconditional love for his poodle and obsession with all types of food. Viktor, with his clingy melodramatic nature and unapologetic bluntness. Viktor, the legend on ice, the coach, and the number one bachelor for years. Viktor, a mess in the kitchen, horrible at gaming, and a devoted lover in bed. Yuuri loved all of Viktor. Even this new Viktor, with a lonely unknown past.

Yuuri is going to marry this man.

He fidgeted with the hem of his coat jacket's sleeve, lost in thought, until he turned back to face his fiancé. Viktor was facing him as if expecting him, with wide blue eyes and parted lips. Yuuri glanced at them, then at the closed curtain, before looking dead into Viktor's eyes. "Vitya?"

" _Da_ (Yes)?"

"Kiss me?"

Viktor beamed, raising his hands to cup Yuuri's cheeks and pulling him in close. He stopped centimeters apart, noses touching and Yuuri used his free hands to brush Viktor's hair back, leaning in to press their foreheads together. Viktor laughed breathily in response (he's always hated how he looks with his hair back, thinking his forehead was far too large, but Yuuri, ever since finding out these insecurities that included his constant fear about his receding hairline, would tenderly brush his hair back to display his forehead and kiss the middle of his head every chance he gets. Viktor has never felt so sure and so in love) and he gently caressed Yuuri's round soft cheeks, which heated under his thumbs. Yuuri's lips curved at Viktor's laugh, lowering a hand from the Russian's head to trace his defined jaw, tilting Viktor's head to the side a bit when he reached under his chin. "C'mere."

Viktor grinned, closing the distance and pressing their lips together. The kiss was tender, full of pure intentions, just another way to reflect their endless love and desire for each other. Yuuri closed his eyes first, comforted under the weight of Viktor's far too soft lips (he swears it's all that chapstick).

All previous anxious thoughts were momentarily forgotten, and Viktor felt a pressure in his chest, a squeeze of his heart, a feeling like no other. What did it matter if he was possibly going crazy or getting mixed up in a random supernatural incident? He had Yuuri. He had everything he could ever ask for.

Viktor's eyes fluttered closed, and he pulled back to take a breath, only for Yuuri to surge forwards in a sudden urgency he couldn't explain. Viktor gasped, and Yuuri took the opportunity to slide his tongue between his parted lips.

The kiss immediately changed to a hungrier tone, and Viktor and Yuuri both groaned under the intensity. One of Viktor's hand lowered and curled around the collar of Yuuri's coat, dragging him closer, while the hand on the back of Viktor's head tightened.

Before it could get too far, the pilot's voice greeting them over the loudspeakers reminded Yuuri of where they were, and he immediately pushed his hand against Viktor's chest gently. They parted with an embarrassingly loud smack, Yuuri's face blushing redder than a tomato. Viktor chuckled at his lover's expression, licking his lips. Oh, how he wanted to continue. He leaned in again and Yuuri shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

Yuuri, of course, was the reasonable one once again. He petted Viktor's hair back to how it was, somewhat. "Push that curtain aside, the stewards need to check if we're buckled in."

Viktor visibly pouted. Yuuri just rolled his eyes, patting Viktor's cheek and then taking out his phone to pointedly avert his attention elsewhere. After an exaggerated sigh, Viktor pushed aside the curtain and greeted the nearing stewardess with his natural charisma at a hundred percent, and Yuuri smiled fondly at his back, finding it undeniably cute when Viktor still glowed like that after every single kiss.

Yuuri looked down at his phone, lips twitching at Phichit's earlier unanswered message as he buckled himself in. He tapped open the attachment when he was all set in his seat to reveal a beautiful arrangement of multiple flowers. Yuuri was surprised, it seemed Phichit had put some real thought and work into the arrangement.

"Oh!" Viktor leaned in, eyes shining. "Yuuri, it's beautiful! So meaningful too."

Yuuri frowned lightly, glancing Viktor's way. "You know what they mean?" Yuuri had been a fan of Viktor for as long as he knew of him, and as embarrassing as it was, Yuuri had followed and read every available scoop about his idol on Earth. In all that he had researched (more like obsessed), Viktor's apparent interest in flower botany had never appeared even once.

Viktor cleared his throat, giving Yuuri a rather rare bashful smile. "I was very into gardening for a while when I was young."

Like a flash, a memory of 16 year old Viktor on the ice with a crown of blue roses appeared before Yuuri's mind. Of course. Yuuri grinned widely at Viktor, loving the idea of meeting new parts to Viktor that no one knows about. "I recognize some. Will you tell me what they all mean?"

Viktor nodded, excited at sharing with his fiancé a hobby he has held dear to him. He scooted closer to Yuuri, waiting for the pilot to finish his announcement of their departure running late to start explaining, scanning the picture thoughtfully. "The scattered white roses represent purity and worthiness in my culture, and if I'm not mistaken, in yours it means silent devotion. It's a classic touch. The green maidenhair-fern that is right next to the orange blossom, the white one you see there," Viktor pointed, "commonly means a secret bond of love and eternity. Ah...the bluebells mean humility and immense gratitude, and..." Viktor gasped a little, smile getting bigger, and this time he looked straight at Yuuri, who was a bit startled by the emotion of glee in his coach's eyes.

"The light purple viscaria means, 'will you dance with me?'."

Yuuri blinked. "I will. I mean," Yuuri looked down, feeling shy, heart beating fast. Viktor had been absolutely awe inducing just now. Worthiness, devotion, gratitude, a bond of love for eternity. A dance. Yuuri's hand tightened on his phone. "I like it. Do you?"

Viktor's expression softened, pressing a kiss to Yuuri's brow. "I love it. What is it for?"

Yuuri chuckled, tapping out of the picture to show Viktor the sender and the text message below. Viktor read over it and laughed. "Mm! Well, tell Phichit he did an amazing job." He looked off to the side, tapping his lips with his index finger. "However, I do want a winter wedding, and-"

Suddenly, as if inspired, Viktor turned and poked his head out into the isle. "Yura! How would you like to be our flower boy?!"

"Drop dead!"

"Oh, Viktor," Yuuri covered his face with his free hand, hiding his smile.

The pilot spoke again to confirm their immediate departure.

As Yuri and Viktor argued (in Viktor's case cheerfully dialogued), and Yakov barked at them to shut up, the stewardess looking frazzled, Yuuri finally sent an answer.

_It's perfect._

  
**Almaty, Kazakhstan**

Sitting next to the water fountain at the First President's Park, Otabek contemplated his next actions. A group of schoolgirls to his right has long since noticed him, taking what they probably thought were discreet pictures of him and giggling to each other. He couldn't have them around for when she arrived, he'd been doing a great job so far in doing these meetings as private as possible, with no interference from the media. He didn't want to begin today.

His phone vibrated in his leather jacket's pocket, alerting him somewhat. Alright, he thought to himself. He'd usually ignore anyone who gave him attention like this, but he couldn't do it this time if he wanted them to leave.

Otabek took in a deep breath and then looked directly at the group of younger teenagers. A few of them squealed. " _Ya mogul vam chem-nibud'pomoch'_ (May I help you)?"

He spoke as politely as he could considering his annoyance. All of them shook their heads quickly, Otabek impressed by their perfect synchrony. They all left hurriedly, and Otabek thought that was over with until he saw one girl pause and turn around, heading straight to him with a determined face. The other girls paused, looking at her as if she'd gone insane but making no motion to stop her.

Otabek raised both his eyebrows when the girl stopped right in front of the bench he was seated. She kept opening her mouth and closing it as if not sure what to say, green eyes looking up at him and then the ground quickly when she felt the full impact of his stern gaze.

"Yes?" Otabek pitied the girl, and decided to give her an opening (it surely had nothing to do with the color of her eyes).

She stood straighter and held out her phone, brown fringes framing her blushing cheeks. "Um, picture? _Yesli u vas yest'vremya_ (If you have time)?"

Otabek stared at her for a second more before nodding and patting the space left on his stone bench. She squealed lightly and hurriedly sat down, outstretching her hand and tilting the phone at the desired angle as quickly as she could. Otabek was known to not take many pictures with his fans and somehow she had gotten lucky and wasn't going to miss this chance no matter what.

Otabek almost smiled at the enthusiasm and neared his face to look at the camera, his shoulder touching hers. He felt her gasp rather than heard it and her smile widened.

After three quick clicks, she stood up and looked down at him with an adoring expression. " _Spasibo_ (Thank you)!" She ran to her friends afterwards, clutching her phone to her chest as if it were the most precious thing.

Otabek watched her reunite with the other girls, hearing them squeal. A few glanced his way as if to try their own luck but he pointedly looked down at his phone after he took it out. It only took a few more moments for there to be complete silence except for the passing cars and the occasional bird when the girls finally left.

With a sigh, Otabek unlocked his phone, eyes scanning his notifications. Almost immediately, a request to let an unknown user tag him in Instagram appeared. He ignored it for now, scrolling up with his thumb to notice a text message at the bottom that wasn't from who he expected.

YURI  
_You better be cheering for me over there._

The corner of Otabek's lip twitched. They didn't text often due to their training and time difference, but they would sneak a few texts here and there whenever the chance presented itself. Otabek considered himself to be rather awkward with Yuri at the beginning of their friendship (seriously, he debatedly kidnapped Yuri the third time he had ever interacted with him, took him to a location unknown to the blond boy and demanded Yuri to be his friend), but Yuri, surprisingly, took it in a stride. After the exhibition, Otabek had the pleasure of getting to know Yuri and the ones that he surrounded himself with. He knew almost immediately that even when Yuri complained about them, Yuri clearly admired and cared for Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov. Otabek never saw himself hanging out with anyone else except Yuri and any possible sponsors at the banquet, but he somehow ended up talking a lot with Yuuri while Yuri and Viktor playfully bickered. At the end of that night, Yuri had fallen asleep against his shoulder, and while Viktor was tipsy, he still kept giving him analyzing looks when they arrived back at the hotel by taxi.

Yuuri, in his insistence, ended up carrying Yuri by piggyback back to his hotel room. Otabek intended to head back to his own room until Viktor had stopped him and suddenly all alcohol consumption seemed to have disappeared from his eyes. Otabek used to think Viktor was silly at times but serious when needed, but he had underestimated how serious Viktor could get until that moment.

 _"Yuri's fond of you,"_ the five consecutive world champion had spoken to him with a fierceness dignified of a stereotypical Russian.

Otabek had stared straight at him and had nodded stoically, bowing his head ever so slightly in respect. _"I plan to be a good friend to him."_

The tense staring match had been broken by Yuuri's arrival, and suddenly Viktor was typically cheerful yet again, letting go of his shoulder and patting him on the back. _"Ty luchshe (You better)."_

According to Yuri, Viktor and 'Katsudon' had started being an item ever since the past banquet. The way Yuri spoke of them at first was disdainfully, but there was always a touch of affection in it, an almost wistful vibe. After witnessing how obviously Yuuri and Viktor looked out for him, Otabek knew Yuri had no business being wistful. And, true to Otabek's thinking, the next time they spoke, after the Russian Nationals, Yuri went on about how embarrassing it was for Viktor and Yuuri to have cheered for him and hugged him after his gold.

 _"In front of everyone like that! They think I'm their kid or something,"_ Yuri had huffed through the phone.

 _"I don't think it's a bad thing,"_ Otabek had responded.

Yuri had stayed silent through the line until he had let out a soft laugh. _"It isn't."_

Otabek's heart ached with the want to be a part of them. Kazakhstan didn't have as many skaters for an event as big as a National, but they had made a smaller event required by the ISU. Otabek had been pleasantly surprised to see a bunch of supportive comments in his Instagram post from his fellow skaters. A "davai" with an adorable Japanese emote from Yuuri, a "you better make Yura proud!" from Viktor, a thousand hearts and thumbs up emojis from Phichit (whatever that meant), and many other good lucks in their respective languages from Christophe, Emil, Seung-Gil, Sara, Mila, and JJ. The post had gone viral on Twitter and Facebook as well, articles about "fellow skaters showing their love for their favorite skater DJ". When Otabek had asked Yuri how they even knew what day was the small practically just for show competition, Yuri had just shrugged at the Skype camera, not looking at him.

_"Katsudon told Viktor, and it all just went to hell."_

Otabek didn't say anything about how Yuri had obviously talked to Yuuri about him for him to have known. Nor did he ever share, to anyone, that he broke his personal best in the short program in that particular competition by 10 points.

It had felt better than he ever thought he could feel.

_Always._

He sent a thumbs up emoji as well.

" _Qimbattim_ (Dear)."

Otabek sucked in a deep breath through his nose and looked up coldly at the woman standing before him.

" _Anasi_ (Mother)."

  
**San Diego, California, United States**

Leo de la Iglesia has been sick for days. Sick as in puking, coughing, sneezing, and shiver-inducing fevers. It's weird for him, and his coach and friends are worried. He hasn't been able to skate or exercise at all for three full days now and he's become restless.

 _"Are you sure you don't just want to sleep it off, Leo?"_ Guang-Hong's voice is on speaker on his pocketed phone as Leo sneaks into the UTC ice rink at 4 in the morning (it's nearly 8 in the night in the same day for Guang-Hong).

"I've been 'sleeping it off' for far too long," Leo grunts as he manages to go through the window of the men's bathroom. His ankles buckle when he lands but he forces himself to stay upright. He's panting heavily now and he's frustrated that it's so obvious that he isn't in skating condition. "Four Continents is just barely two weeks away! Now isn't the time to let illness take over my body like this, I-" Leo stopped talking when he reached the door. It was locked. " _Carajo_ (Fuck)!"

Guang-Hong is quiet for a moment. _"Leo? Are you okay?"_

Leo leans against the door and slides to the ground. He stares at the high window he just came through at the same time he takes his phone out of his front pocket. "It's locked, Hong. This is the first time Coach locks this door. I can't get it open from inside."

 _"I figured something like that would happen,"_ Guang-Hong's tone was buttery soft like always, doing his best in consoling his friend. Leo raised his knees and set his elbows on them. He coughs once. "Guess I should just wait here for anyone to arrive."

_"Isn't that until 5?"_

"Mmhm." Leo shifted his gaze to his phone, where his friend's name flashed with an ID photo of them in China eating crepes. He was really cold, and really regretting doing this. He just didn't want to stay at home anymore, where his parents would look down on him because they don't understand. They were supportive only when it brought money home.

"This sucks." He was getting real dizzy by now. "Hong?"

_"Yes? Do you want me to entertain you?"_

"Please," Leo closed his eyes, sweating bullets despite the cold. He could hear Guang-Hong's soothing voice explaining something Phichit and him were investigating for Yuuri until all there was was a calm feeling. He opened his eyes when he felt like he was going to fall asleep and gasped when instead he found himself right on the ice with his skates on.

He stood, bewildered, unsure if the fever was playing games with him and he had, somehow, gotten the door open and put on his skates. It all seemed very plausible in a way, although Leo had never blacked out like that in his entire life. He turned when he saw a fellow rinkmate. He waved at her and she smiled.

"Watch this Leo!"

He nodded, frowning lightly when he saw her circling the ice to build up speed. She was still a junior that hadn't gone past the triple flip, and that kind of speed usually meant a higher jump, with more turns. Just when Leo was going to warn her, she had launched herself incorrectly and crashed on the ice.

It was like witnessing a horror movie in real life. Her bone had split and blood had spattered on the ice and her scream made Leo yell along with her. The worst that could ever happen to a skater, he couldn't believe what he was seeing, and why couldn't he move? He didn't-

Leo jerked, brown eyes blinking rapidly, to realize he hadn't moved at all. He was still sitting on the bathroom floor of the ice arena. Guang-Hong was now going on about this new trend he didn't know about. Everything was like it had been a couple minutes ago. Did he just experience a vision? The fever must be making him hallucinate things-

Wait.

Leo pressed his hand on his own forehead. "Hong?"

_"Shi (Yes)?"_

"I think my fever is gone."

  
**Ostrava, Czech Republic**

_Yuuri ran fast. As fast as he could. He could hear them after him. He could already feel their hands on him, unforgiving and harsh._

_He didn't mean to disappoint them!_

_Yuuri ran until he forgot why he was running. He stopped to see a child getting caught by his elbows. Yuuri saw the child's terrified face and he yelled at whoever was behind the boy to let them go. He wasn't being heard._

_He stepped forward and suddenly he was in a room. It was bare, no windows, only a twin mattress on the floor, and a child curled up with no blankets or pillows. Yuuri neared the child, noticing the bruises that extended across his frail arms and legs. A feeling of sadness and pain overwhelmed him. Yuuri stretched his trembling hand over to him, a strong need to comfort taking over him, and jumped with the child when the door to the small room slammed open. Yuuri glared at the woman that stood there, guarding the child with his body until he heard the boy whisper._

_"Mama."_

"Yuuri?"

_"Mama, ötinemin, meni zaqimdamañiz (please don't hurt me)."_

"Katsuki!"

With a loud gasp, Yuuri bolted upwards. He felt his head hit something, and groaned, covering his head with his hands and curling himself forward where he was seated. He could still feel his whole body shaking and he was momentarily lost to where he was. He heard someone whisper in Russian and for the first time noticed the sound of someone sobbing. A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. "Yuuri? _Moya zvezda_ (My star)? Are you okay?"

 _"Viktor?"_ A familiar female voice whispered. Yuuri jerked at the sensation of goosebumps taking over at the same time the voice echoed deep within him. He could feel his hands dig deeper into his face and abruptly realized the one who was crying was him. _"Yuuri! Non piangere (Don't cry)."_

Yuuri opened his eyes and stared at the blurry ground. He took note of his surroundings as he breathed, realizing for the first time since he woke up that he was having an anxiety attack in the airplane. The pressure in his mind vanished, the cold sensation as well, and suddenly everything was much clearer to hear.

Viktor and Yakov were speaking in rushed Russian beside him. They both sounded worried. He recognized the occasional input of Yuri's angrier than usual voice. Yuuri closed his eyes again in mortification, focusing on controlling his sobs. Out of all places to have an anxiety attack, it had be here, at this time and day. Viktor had his first competition since coming back to skating tomorrow, and here he was, making it all about him just because of a weird terrible nightmare. A nightmare that seemed oh so real. Yuuri still felt relatively shaken but he had to pull himself together quickly. He didn't hear anyone else, and didn't feel the plane moving, which would mean they have arrived to their destination. At least he spared himself the embarrassment of seeing the other passengers witness his attack. That thought made him feel a bit better, enough to sniff and finally letting his hands fall from his face.

Almost immediately, Viktor turned his attention to him. "Yuuri!"

Yuuri didn't dare look at him, still trying to control his rapid breathing. "Some water, please?" He croaked.

Someone moved and a bottle of water was handed into his vision. Yuuri eyed the hand, recognizing it as Yuri's, and took the opened bottle. He sat back, covering his eyes with his arm while his other hand tipped the water into his mouth. It was quiet while he drank and tried to reign himself in. Viktor's hand had moved from his shoulder to his knee.

"We should wait for them outside," he heard Lilia say. After some murmured agreements from the rest of the Russian team, there was movement and then sudden silence.

"You have only a few minutes," Yakov told them. Yuuri thinks Viktor nodded.

It took a while, but Yuuri finally let his arm fall from his face, setting aside the empty bottle. He stared at the seat in front of him with a frown, still feeling some tears escape his eyes. He could feel Viktor impatiently waiting for him to look at him, so he finally took a breath and turned to look at Viktor.

Viktor, of course, looked absolutely destroyed with worry. His blue eyes scanned Yuuri's face and he let out a little sad sigh at his fiancé tears. Taking a note from the last time Yuuri cried out of anxiety, Viktor hesitantly opened his arms and beckoned him over. Yuuri scrunched his nose, trying to hold back another sob as his feelings stormed inside of him. He didn't know if he wanted any physical contact at this moment, but his mind kept reminding him of the realistic sight of the child reaching out for help. Only a second more of thinking, and he urgently unbuckled his belt, pushing up the movable armrest out of the way, and proceeded to throw himself in Viktor's arms. Viktor closed his eyes in relief, glad to know he did good this time (he was still learning how to handle things with Yuuri when it came to his anxiety and panic attacks, but he'd continue to do his best, anything for his love) and tightened his arms around Yuuri's waist. He kissed Yuuri's forehead and rested his chin on his head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Yuuri dug his face deeper into the crook of Viktor's neck, taking in his lover's comforting smell and warmth. His hands clutched unto Viktor's coat like his life depended on it. "Not now. It just felt so real."

His voice was muffled but Viktor understood. He opened his eyes, rubbing the small of Yuuri's back when he felt him tremble. Viktor wished he had a way to help him more. Wished he had the power to push away every ill emotion from ever getting to his beloved. When Yuuri stopped shaking, Viktor pushed him back a little so he could tilt his face up to his. Yuuri's nose and cheeks was red and splotched with the wetness of his tears, his eyes a bit swollen and his lips still quivering. His black hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat he produced by thrashing around in his sleep. Yuuri rarely had bad dreams, and even if he did, they never effected him like this. Viktor was worried as to what could produce such a strong reaction. He leaned forward to kiss the corners of Yuuri's eyes. "I wish I could kiss away your sadness."

Yuuri snorted lightly, a new red dusting his cheeks from Viktor's actions. He finally let the death grip on his coach's clothes go, laying his hands softly on Viktor's chest. "You big softy."

Viktor smiled gently at him. "Are you ready to go?"

Yuuri nodded after a moment but made no further movements in getting off of Viktor.

Viktor's smile widened at that. " _Zoloste_ (Gold)?"

Yuuri sniffed and got off of him with a huff. Viktor squeezed his hips, earning himself a look from his lover, before letting Yuuri go. They collected their things, Viktor cleaning the glasses he took from Yuuri when he had fallen asleep with them on on their flight. Before moving closer to the way out of the plane where the head stewardess was doing her best in not staring at them, Viktor stopped Yuuri when he saw him squinting around and made his student face him so he could slide on the glasses himself. Yuuri blinked up at him once they were set, big brown eyes staring at him. Viktor pecked his lips quickly and turned to head outside.

When they stepped off the plane, Yuuri picked up the pace to catch Viktor's hand. Viktor smiled at him, pulling him in closer so their arms could link together.

As they walked and met the rest of the team waiting for them, Yuuri thought to himself, and belatedly realized something.

Who the hell had been speaking Italian to him earlier?

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos! Leave much more~~ 
> 
> For next chapter, Phichit will finally make an appearance! Aaaand it's finally the start of the Europeans! I might need more time while I investigate what songs I am going to give for Viktor's programs. If you guys have any idea, feel free to recommend!
> 
> Also, my personal headcanon is that Viktor is very into flowers. Nobody can stop me. I may do a flower shop AU one shot.
> 
> The phrase "I could search the whole world, nobody is better than you" is a real one quoted by Yuuri Katsuki himself to Viktor. I am still not over this.


	3. Selfless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit feat. Vitenka.
> 
> Seung-gil can be nice sometimes.
> 
> Yuuri really wants some Russian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I have changed the rating and a few tags, and if you're coming in and reading this since before, please notice some things have been redacted. I have decided to change the direction of this. It hasn't change much at all though!)

  
**January 2017**  
**Bangkok, Thailand**

 

YUURI♡

_It's perfect._

Phichit giggled even before he opened Yuuri's text message. He knew the arrangement was perfect, he hadn't spent 2 hours straight investigating with Guang-Hong for nothing. Ever since Viktor announced the engagement, Phichit couldn't help but be so monumently excited over the prospect of his best friend marrying his long-time idol. The job of a best man is one Phichit is taking very seriously, even if Yuuri hadn't officially asked anything of him, not like he needed to.

Yuuri was family to Phichit. He wanted the best for him and had always done his best to motivate him (even if this meant threatening to take away Yuuri's precious Viktor posters in the days Yuuri refused to wake up early for classes and training).

After the 2015 GPF, Yuuri had retreated within himself so deeply, that even Phichit didn't know what to do. Not even mentioning his high esteemed Viktor Nikiforov got a reaction from Yuuri. He had had to call Yuuri's sister to find out about Vicchan (don't ask him how he got the number, Phichit has his ways), and even then whatever he had to say Yuuri would ignore and curl himself even more in his blankets. Phichit had felt desperate, and when after a month of this Yuuri offhandedly told him he was considering retirement, even if it was said jokingly, Phichit had been left speechlessly peeved. When Yuuri graduated, and left back to Japan, Phichit had stared at his empty room, feeling at such a loss, that he knew he couldn't stay there any longer either.

He had felt dull for a long time, knowing his best friend was depressed and he couldn't do much about it was aggravating to his nerves. He knew Yuuri dealt with anxiety often, if not all the time, but Phichit always saw him above it all. Yuuri had always bounced back, no matter the failure. Seeing him like that, witnessing him giving in to the pressure, it triggered something within Phichit.

Now, Phichit had never been a person that was easily attached to anyone nor a person that idolized anything (this could be attested to a number of reasons that were exploited in his youth that he rarely spoke of or mentioned). Watching Viktor Nikiforov dominate the ice had always been awe-inspiring, but never enough for him to understand the level of fanaticism that surrounded him. Phichit, being a skater himself, knew the grilling work and dedication one had to have to get as far as Viktor, and he has always admired and appreciated his hard work and it's results (like, wow, that's a lot of gold medals), but Phichit wasn't ever able to get how people found themselves so entranced, so blinded by a need to get closer to Viktor as if he were an angel uncovered.

That is, of course, until he met Yuuri Katsuki. When Phichit had first stumbled upon Yuuri's carefully hidden collection of Viktor Nikiforov posters, Phichit's first reaction had been dismay.

 _"Oh no,"_ he could remember whispering to himself.

When he joked with Yuuri about his posters, and saw Yuuri's adorable embarrassment, Phichit found himself transfixed enough to ask him why. The answer by now, usually, was a given to anyone else. Like, how can you not adore that ethereal being on ice? But those people were usually not athletes like Yuuri. Athletes that always had to give a little more than others to keep up. By then, he had seen Yuuri sweat and bleed alongside him, had seen him gracefully move and entrance anyone who saw him practicing at the rink. The only times Phichit saw him fail was under the eyes of millions, but he knew from the bottom of his heart that Yuuri could do amazing things if he had set his mind to it. Why would someone like Yuuri, someone so obviously meant to be just as otherworldly as Viktor and yet was so real, could be such a...fanboy?

So, when Phichit asked him why, finally, after days of contemplating these facts, Yuuri had just smiled. He didn't look offended at the question like many other fans he had witnessed, he looked bashful, like sharing a secret.

 _"It's nothing I can explain with simple words,"_ Yuuri had mumbled, looking away from the pizza they had managed to sneak past Celestino. He had glanced at one of his posters and his entire facial expression softened enough to cause a twinge in Phichit's heart. _"It sounds stupid, but ever since I first saw him skate, I always thought...I mean, it was like he was calling out for me. I want to meet him there, on the ice, one day. Show him what I can do, surprise him, like he surprises me."_

When Yuuri had looked back at him with shining eyes, Phichit had sworn reality had tilted. The sensation had gone by so fast it had been dizzying, but Phichit could never forget it. It was like being in the presence of a god, a moment of pure crystallization, like those vague feelings of unrest that everyone had were finally cleared and put down to sleep forever. And Phichit had pondered, that if _that_ was what everyone felt when they looked at Viktor skate, then he finally, _finally_ , understood.

Yuuri was a threatening presence as a rinkmate. His rigorous training methods and unrelenting stamina forced Phichit to face the reality of very real competitors he didn't have to deal with back at Thailand or at the current competitions he participated in. Despite his obvious exceeding potential, Yuuri never let it get to his head, never allowed himself a sliver of confidence. While it was frustrating to watch, Yuuri was part of the top skaters in the world after all (so what the hell Yuuri), Phichit could only be inspired by him.

For the first time in his life, he admired someone so deeply that he felt the losses and the wins with them. To Phichit, everyone else could keep Viktor as their non-relatable idol and champion.

Phichit had Yuuri.

Therefore, observing Yuuri drown alone, in a dark pit that not even the idea of his high-esteemed Viktor could get him out of, Phichit felt hopeless in a way he had never experienced.

It had reflected on his skating enough for Coach Celestino to call him out on it.

 _"You have to keep trying, Phichit,"_ Celestino had grasped his shoulders tightly when Phichit had refused to meet his gaze after one dissatisfying evening practice. _"If not for yourself, then for Thailand. For change."_

Celestino's words had echoed deep within him for days, and when Phichit found the video of Yuuri skating Viktor's Stammi Vicino free program, it was like a spark had been reignited, a semblance of hope that tingled his very soul. He had seen Yuuri practice this routine many times when Yuuri thought he was alone in the ice rink back at Detroit after the Japan Nationals loss, but this had been far more... _him_ than he had ever witnessed. It was like watching a Phoenix rise from the ashes.

Phichit had posted it on his Instagram and Twitter pages almost immediately, vibrating with some nameless anticipation, and had squealed at a comment from Christophe Giacometti saying _"Oh, he has GOT to see this"_. While Phichit wasn't surprised that Viktor had gotten word and seen the video, what was utterly jaw dropping was getting a call from Yuuri at 1 am.

_"Phichit-kun! Viktor's going to be my coach!?"_

In a way, some part of Phichit had seen this coming. Not perhaps the coach thing, but the proximation between Yuuri and Viktor. He knew they'd clash together soon enough, people like Yuuri and Viktor, they couldn't hide from the shadows, no matter how hard Yuuri tried or disbelieved. People like them moved nations, people like them made history with a stroke of their wrists and with flashes of their smiles.

Since their meeting, everything seemed to go uphill in ways Phichit nor the world he was sure could have ever anticipated. Viktor and Yuuri were beacons of change, and Phichit was so proud (he once called himself the captain of the #Viktuuri ship in a tweet, and had gotten exactly 13.2k more followers in Twitter because of it). Suffice to say, Phichit felt like he was in a movie by now, it was almost unbelievable to witness.

As happy as he was of their success, he was also hard at work to continue his. He wanted to go beyond his bronze at the Four Continents. Viktor, Yuuri, Guang-Hong, Leo, and everyone else were surely part of his inspiration to continue making history alongside them. He could feel this in every bone, since the instant he stood in the middle of the ice as a Grand Prix Finalist. He was motivated, ready to compete against such promising rivals, and the whole world seemed to grin at every step Phichit and his friends took.

It was so great, that it felt a little wrong. Weird, somehow, like something was missing, like all of this was just far too perfect.

Phichit sighed deeply, throwing his phone to the side as he laid down on his small bed. It was late, but like most recent nights, he had trouble sleeping. He had been having such turbulent dreams as of late, and the most annoying migraine. It made him uncomfortable, almost anxious.

At a squeak from one of his beloved hamsters, Phichit sat up, glancing at them at their cage. The lightest one named Vitenka (he honestly regretted letting Yuuri name him) was the only one awake, staring straight at him expectantly.

Phichit smiled softly. "Want a snack?" He stood, sliding on his hamster slippers that Leo had gifted him as a birthday present last year. He walked across his small room, into his slightly bigger kitchen and living room. As Phichit reached over the counter to the bag of treats, he froze as the powerful feeling of being watched took over.

The commercial district in Bangkok that Phichit lived in was notorious for tourists and slightly less for criminals. He didn't think anyone would break into his small apartment but lately, with his growing popularity, he wouldn't be surprised if a fan found their way into his living room balcony, again.

Phichit took in a deep breath, taking the bag of treats and the spoon beside it (at least it was _something_ ), waiting only a second more to swiftly turn around with a well-equipped glare, treats pressed agaisnt his chest and one arm out with his spoon pointing threateningly.

He saw no one.

Phichit surveyed his living room, checked the lock of the balcony French doors, and then verified the hallway that lead to his front door. Nothing.

Convinced he was just losing his senses from lack of sleep, Phichit set the spoon back into the sink and headed back to his room. He's going to have to tell Celestino he needs a rest day tomorrow, it won't do if he's so tired that he's paranoid now.

Vitenka had fallen back to sleep with all the time Phichit took to check for some invisible intruder. With a pout, Phichit quietly left a handful of the treats in their food bowl for when they woke up, and set the bag aside.

Phichit's phone binged with the custom ringtone he had for Leo. Deciding to wash his hands first, he headed to the bathroom connected to his room. Not bothering to turn on the lights, Phichit used the soap Yuuri tended to always buy back at their shared apartment. The thought brought a small smile, and he sighed for what was probably the hundredth time that day. He wondered where these melancholic sentiments were coming from.

He glanced up at his shadowed reflection and frowned. Wow, he needed to get some sun if he was really getting this pale. Phichit scoffed and then blinked. Wait, what was he seeing exactly?

He used his elbow to turn the lights on and leaned closer to the mirror. He needed to trim his eyebrows a bit, but he looked fine. Skin normal. Mildly, he wondered how he'd look being as pale as Guang-Hong or Yuuri. The thought made him chuckle. Probably ridiculous. He loved his darker skin, even if it did cause him a bit of misfortune while living in the Americas.

Phichit shook his head, brushing away the troubling memories. It dizzied him a bit. He glanced down at his hands, scrubbing his face with water, and then closing the faucet. He faced himself, nearing his face towards his reflection again. There was something up with his eyes, he was sure. His eyes have always had a touch of gray, but they seem darker somehow.

He blinked and like watching a metamorphosis, his skin paled, his eyebrows thickened and darkened, and in another opening and closing of eyes, suddenly, he wasn't seeing himself anymore.

Seung-gil Lee was staring right at him.

Phichit's lips parted, and as if he had just been sucker punched in the gut, all air left his body. He couldn't move in his surprise, didn't dare to even blink. Seung-gil's hand slowly moved to his own cheek as if in marvel, and Phichit finally gasped when he felt his own fingers brush his upper cheekbone.

_"Neooooo...wae geuleohge olae geollilgeoya (Hey, what's taking you so long)?"_

  
**Seoul, South Korea**

  
Seung-gil jerked at his acquaintance's voice. He shot a glare at the closed door of the club's bathroom, and looked back at the mirror, half-expecting to see the Thai skater again, only to be disappointed. He gave himself a look, his bloodshot eyes and cracked lips didn't look so good. He's supposed to meet his elder sister tomorrow morning since it was one of his few days off training and studying. She's going to hate him for meeting her like this, in public no less.

He smirked a little, he would love nothing more. He closed the running faucet, gave the mirror one last glance, and stumbled over to the door. He had to get out of there.

Those red walls were driving him insane.

The guy who was outside raised an eyebrow but said nothing after Seung-gil glowered at him. He said something about leaving in five minutes, but Seung-gil wasn't paying much attention. He leaned against a wall outside of the bathroom hallway (there were so many people in that small place, Seung-gil wanted to scream) and let his head fall back. The ceiling was pretty, with the blue glowing stars. He wanted that for his own ceiling. That'd be amusing to have.

Almost as amusing as having seen that Thai skater in the mirror. What was his name again?

"Seuuuung!"

Seung-gil kicked himself off the wall, staggering quite a bit. Whoever called him wrapped an arm around his waist. Oh. Warm.

The guy, Bum, his drunken mind generously provided, was laughing about something as they swayed over to the exit where their rinkmates were waiting for them.

" _Mwo_ (What)?"

Bum rolled his eyes and they almost knocked someone over. Seung-gil was trying really hard not to laugh right at the other person's angry face.

" _Naneun gieog-i an nanda_ (I don't remember)." Bum said once they sat at the back of one of their rinkmate's car. Seung-gil couldn't remember whose.

" _Mwol gieoghani_ (Remember what)?" Seung-gil really just wanted to sleep right now. He didn't even know how they got there. He usually loved that out of his mind sensation, but he was so exhausted. He hadn't been sleeping well these past few days.

" _Geuui ileum_ (His name)."

" _Nugu ileum-iya_ (Whose name)?" Mi-na was at Seung-gil's left, and this is the first time he notices her in the car. One of her legs was on top of his lap. Under usual circumstances, he would've pushed her off (Mi-na was always so clingy with him even at the rink it was so annoying), but today was her birthday, and that was actually the reason they went out to drink, so Seung-gil decided he'd let her be this time (see Bum? He had a heart. He could be selfless sometimes).

"Phichit Chulanont?" Jin-soo looked at Seung-gil through the rear view mirror as he drove.

Seung-gil blinked. Oh. He wasn't aware he'd asked that out loud.

" _Aaa ye! Gwiyeoun sonyeon_ (Ah, yes! Cute boy)!" Mi-na giggled, receiving a playful shove from Bum.

Seung-gil ignored them, pressing his forehead against the cold windowpane. He saw the lights of his city until his eyes bothered him too much.

He closed his eyes, and dreamt with Thai music.

  
**Ostrava, Czech Republic**

  
Yuuri woke up from his nap severely disoriented. The world was blurry around him as he sat up, unsurprised to find himself alone in the spacious one bed hotel room suite. He could vaguely remember a kiss to his temple from Viktor before he was completely took over by sleep.

At an urgent tug from his bladder, the reason he woke up at all, he scooted to the edge of the ridiculously large bed and stood up. Yuuri stretched as he walked over to the bathroom, the city lights view from the windows lighting up the dark room enough. He turned on the lights and cringed at his bed hair. Under further inspection, he realized that Viktor must've changed his clothes while he slept. Yuuri couldn't help the small smile that tugged his lips. Being taken care of like this felt nice. He'd always thought it'd be rather invasive, and it always had been with everyone else, but, like always lately, Viktor was an exception. A nice exception.

After having done his business, he decided to shower. The hot water was heaven for his aching body. Lilia and Viktor (and Yakov by extension) were merciless and took advantage of his impressive stamina in ways Coach Celestino and Minako never did. It was straining. A good kind of ache all throughout, but tiresome both mentally and physically nevertheless.

Yuuri wondered what time it was as he washed his hair with Viktor's shampoo and conditioner (something Viktor had been persistent about enough that Yuuri eventually had to give in because wow, who can deny Viktor when he pulls out those puppy eyes? Yuuri definitely cannot).

It seemed to be late, maybe he should contact Viktor and see what he was up to. He was feeling rather hungry.

Coming out of the hot shower into the cold air conditioner never failed to cause him shivers. He wrapped himself in one of the robes Viktor frequently requests in their hotel rooms (so spoiled), and headed out of the bathroom with the intention of getting his phone to call Viktor when he heard the door click open.

Viktor entered the suite like a god send with bags of some sort of take out food that smelled so good it made Yuuri's stomach instantly grumble.

Viktor smiled when he caught sight of Yuuri, setting the paper bags down by the table at the corner of the room. He quickly turned back to close the door, laying back on it as his eyes twinkled (literally) at the sight before him. "Oh! What a way to welcome me, _Yuuri_."

Yuuri, despite being used to his ridiculous fiancé, couldn't help but blush, tightening the robe around him subconsciously and scoffing at him as he watched Viktor throw his coat on a love seat. "What's all that, Viktor?"

With a pout, Viktor walked over to Yuuri, placing his hands on his lover's hips when he was near enough. "I grew impatient when my sleeping beauty wouldn't wake up, so I got us some food. I was in a mood for Italian, I hope that's alright?"

Yuuri pressed his lips together with the intention of not letting his amusement show. He ignored the close proximity and the hands on his hips. "What if I didn't want Italian?"

Viktor furrowed his eyebrows together for a moment of pure confusion before it cleared in understanding. A small smirk played at his lips as he tried to remain nonchalant. "Ah. Well, that's unfortunate. What would you prefer then?"

"Russian."

"Russian?"

"Yes."

Viktor pulled Yuuri close enough for their chest to brush against each other. Yuuri bit his bottom lip hard in attempting to hide his mirth. Viktor managed to keep a straight face as he spoke. "You got some Russian right in front of you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. All for you."

Yuuri snorted and their composure broke. As Yuuri laughed quietly, Viktor chuckled and wrapped his arms around his student, burying his face in the wet black hair. "You smell like me."

Yuuri circled his arms around Viktor's neck, pressing his ear agaisnt his chest. "I like smelling like you."

His smile blooms when he hears Viktor's heart stutter.

" _Miliy_ (Darling)," Viktor murmured after a moment. "I...I have something to tell you."

Yuuri blinked, and tried to shift his head so he could see his lover's face but Viktor's arms tensed and Yuuri froze in response. "Is something wrong, Vitya?"

"Um, not exactly. I'm not sure."

Yuuri frowned, his heart speeding up as thoughts raced in his head. He wasn't anxious yet, but he could feel it building up the longer Viktor acted so weird. He moved one of his hands from his neck higher to caress Viktor's jaw lightly. "Is this about what happened at the airport?"

" _Da_."

"You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to. There's always-"

"I want to," Viktor interrupted. Yuuri felt him take in a deep breath. "I was thinking while I watched you sleep. I don't...I'm not going to skate very well if I keep, ah...how do you say? When you worry?"

"Worrying."

"Yes, that. The truth is, I can be selfish too sometimes, my Yuuri."

Viktor paused a moment to think, glad that Yuuri seemed okay with letting him take his time. Yuuri's anxiety attack on the plane a couple hours ago made him contemplate the fact that he had someone to take care of now, and also made him consider that just how Yuuri was open to his embrace, just how Yuuri lets him in, now more than ever he should return the favor.

The mistakes and assumptions that were made on the Grand Prix Final short program night should not be repeated (it had been a really long time since Viktor had felt that kind of intense hurt), and Viktor was going to start doing his part to avoid it.

Should have done his part long ago, should have told Yuuri about his past and his family, and the weird things that had happened in his youth. It just seemed so hard to even consider speaking of, and there was this fear deep inside of him, that if he revealed too much, Yuuri would leave.

He wouldn't be able to handle it if Yuuri left him. He didn't want to disappoint Yuuri. He didn't want the glimmer in Yuuri's eyes to disappear. Yuuri once told him he didn't see him as an idol anymore, that he was much more and Viktor treasured that night of passion and tenderness as if it were a precious jewel.

But witnessing Yuuri's own struggles resurface again was a wake up call. Viktor can't keep Yuuri in the dark like this anymore. Yet...if Viktor told him, now more than ever, about everything and the very real situation right now that he might be experiencing something paranormal with Chris...

How would Yuuri take this?

It's not that he thought Yuuri wouldn't be able to handle it. Yuuri was possibly the strongest most stubborn person he has ever met. If anything, he knows Yuuri would take it in a stride and stay close to him no matter what.

They're getting married after all.

(Right?)

Viktor sighed, letting go of his love (missing the warmth already) and sitting at the border of the bed. Yuuri watched him quietly. "Sit next to me?"

Yuuri nodded, settling down beside him and taking Viktor's right hand in his. It made Viktor smile a little. To think months ago Yuuri had been too skittish at even a casual touch from him, and look at him now. Slightly overwhelmed, Viktor squeezed Yuuri's hand softly in return, gazing at their intertwined hands.

"Not to hurry you up, Vitya, but the food might get cold," Yuuri spoke gently, encouraging him to continue and bringing him back to earth. One of Yuuri's foot kept twitching, also reminding Viktor of how anxious this wait must make Yuuri feel.

"Right," Viktor took in a deep breath, preparing himself. " _Solnyshko_ , I haven't been telling you things about my past and my...family. They're hard to think about and if I'm honest, I simply do not pay it much mind at all. I have Lilia and Yakov and Yurio and you now. That's always been much more important then people that no longer exist to me."

Viktor glanced up to catch Yuuri's concerned gaze for just a moment before looking back down at their hands. "I'm afraid the past is catching up to me now because of my dismissal...Yuuri, my beloved, I fear I might be caught up in something far too out of this world to explain properly. It's...insane at the least, and I do not want you to be creeped out-"

"Viktor."

Viktor snapped his mouth closed. Yuuri said his name so authoritatively he didn't how else to respond, refusing to look at his fiancé. He heard Yuuri huff and felt fingers gently caress his jaw before gripping it securely and making Viktor face him. Yuuri had an amused little smile at his lips that immediately made Viktor unconsciously relax.

"You watch me sleep, Vitya. Any normal person would be creeped out by that," Yuuri's smile widened at the surprise painted on Viktor's face. "Nothing you can tell me at all will ever push me away from you."

The heart-shaped smile Yuuri adored so much finally made an appearance. "Yuuri!"

"Besides," Yuuri continued hesitantly, brushing Viktor's hair off his glowing face. "I might have something weird to say myself. Makes it easier if it's a one-for-one thing. It happened today too."

Viktor's eyes sharpened the way they do whenever he's in coach mode at the rink. "You mean about your nightmare that caused your distress?"

Yuuri nodded and let his hand fall down from his face to rest at Viktor's thigh. He gave his lover a smug look. "You first though."

Viktor groaned, throwing himself back on the bed with all the ridiculous grace he posses and in the process ceasing all contact with Yuuri. He took one of the many pillows and stuffed his face on it.

Yuuri blinked at him when he heard a muffled sound. "What?"

Viktor sighed as he removed the pillow and stared at the ceiling. "Chris and I switched bodies."

Yuuri took a moment, opening and closing his mouth until he furrowed his brows. "Can you repeat that?"

Viktor laughed airily, sitting up and looking at his beloved with a grimace. "When I tripped at the airport, I had heard Christophe's voice as if he were there. It was like...in my head? And when I turned around, I was at his ice skating rink, wearing his clothes, and hearing Coach Josef yelling at him in French and then everything changed and I was at the airport again. It was unbelievable Yuuri! And I thought it was just, I don't know, like a whiplash or something but then he called me and I couldn't believe my ears!"

"I'm not sure I believe mine," Yuuri muttered to himself, eyes wide and locked on Viktor.

"He experienced the same thing except he was at the airport and saw you and Yura!" Viktor leaned forward towards Yuuri, searching his expression. "Am I just losing my mind?"

"I..." Yuuri didn't know what to say. He didn't know what he had been expecting Viktor to tell him but this surely wasn't it. It sounded so far-fetched, like those supernatural things that happened to kids in movies or comics. Honestly, he wasn't one to talk much himself. That nightmare or dream or whatever it was had shocked him to his core, it had felt like he was there. But Viktor hadn't been sleeping when that happened to him. However, Yuuri had heard a voice that he had felt like someone was there. It had been familiar enough for Yuuri to know it was not anyone actually present at the airplane no matter how he looked at it. Maybe this is linked? "I...heard a voice too."

Viktor gasped. "What?"

"It wasn't Chris's," Yuuri glanced at the window. Why did it have to be Chris for Viktor out of all people? He ignored his petty thoughts and looked back at Viktor. "When I woke up, I heard someone speaking to me in a different language. A woman. It was familiar, but I can't quite place it. Italian, I think."

Viktor frowned heavily. "You're hearing a woman's voice."

Yuuri couldn't help the dry laugh that escaped him. "And you Chris's."

They stared at each other, pausing to think.

"Well," Viktor tapped his bottom lip in thought. "At least we're both crazy and in this together."

"Ah, yes. Classic Bonny and Clyde," Yuuri deadpanned and after a moment of silence, they both laughed. Yuuri climbed completely unto the bed as Viktor settled himself agaisnt the headboard. He splayed his legs open and patted the space between them. Yuuri sat, resting his back on Viktor's chest and sighing in pleasure when Viktor began petting his hair.

"I don't know if it's weird," Viktor said, brushing Yuuri's hair back and kissing his head. "But I'm happy I get to experience even this together with you."

"Mmm," Yuuri hummed. "That is weird."

"Yuuri!"

He giggled at Viktor's whine. "We might be losing our minds Viktor!"

"And you're laughing about it!"

Yuuri took Viktor's hand that was laying on his thigh and kissed the gold ring. "Better than getting remarkably jealous of Chris getting to switch bodies with you. Or panicking about a kid possibly getting abused right now."

Viktor froze. "Huh?"

"The nightmare I had," Yuuri mumbled against his lover's skin, feeling his heart grow heavy. "It felt real. But hazy, like a memory. A memory that wasn't even mine. I never got to see the boy's face clearly but I saw the mother. I had felt the boy's fear. If what I'm having is related to what happened with Chris and you, it makes me think that maybe it was never nightmare. That there's a boy out there crying out for help and I don't know where he even is. And that...that's a scary thought."

"Oh," Viktor pressed Yuuri closer to himself, his arms wrapping him. These news unsettled Viktor enough for Yuuri to feel his shaking. Viktor dug his face in Yuuri's hair, trying his best not to think about-

"Vitya," Yuuri whispered, suddenly remembering. He took in a halting breath. "Vitya...why does this have to do with your past?"

Viktor bit his tongue. Yuuri waited, soothingly humming as he did so. He knew something about the nightmare triggered Viktor. He could feel his chest tightening with each passing moment as he thought of the worst. Was the nightmare a memory of Viktor's? Impossible. Despite that Yuuri had not seen the child's face, he had seen his dark hair, unless Viktor randomly started growing natural platinum blond hair (which was also very improbable, he had seen the baby pictures from Lilia's house). Even then, Viktor had mentioned his past even before Yuuri ever said anything about it. Could it be that it was similar?

Yuuri swallowed thickly. "Viktor?"

"Sorry, Yuuri," Viktor spoke absentmindedly, almost coldly, as if it rehearsed. "I had a lot of experiences when I was child. Otherworldly ones. I wanted to, still want to, talk about them with you. But, I'm thinking later would be best. Forgive me if you can."

Yuuri flared. He pushed Viktor's arms away so he could turn around and straddle his lap. He took Viktor's face in his hands and gave the blank expression a stern look. "Viktor, don't ask for forgiveness over something like this. Ever. I'll meet you where you are, just like you've done with me."

Yuuri pressed his forehead on Viktor's, eyes ablaze. " _Hai_ (Yes)?"

Viktor breathed in through his nose, emotions stirring up inside him. Just like that, the ice that had protected Viktor throughout all his life and kept everyone at bay melted under Yuuri's fire, reminding him that Yuuri isn't like everybody else. Could never be.

Yuuri was...

"Oh," Viktor's blue eyes actually watered as anger rose up towards himself. "Oh. My love, I'm sorry, I-"

Yuuri scoffed, using his thumbs to caress his cheeks when he sat back down, resting his weight on Viktor's thighs. " _Baka_ (Stupid). Didn't I say no more sorries?"

Viktor smiled shakily, shoulders sagging. He felt at fault, having pulled such a cold tone on Yuuri that he did not deserve. "I don't know what to say."

Yuuri sighed softly, letting go of his face. He kept seeing new parts of Viktor everyday, but that just then had been scary. Vaguely reminding him of that time back then at the garage. Yuuri is quickly coming to the conclusion that not only was Viktor inexperienced and awkward to other people's emotions, he was equally so to his own. It was one of the many things that made Viktor different from the idol perfection he dreamed of. These flaws only made him love him more, made him more perfect.

His thoughts were interrupted by his stomach complaining in hunger and he proceeded to give Viktor _the_ look. "Say you'll finally eat Italian with me."

"I thought you wanted Russian," Viktor said tentatively, hands squeezing Yuuri's hip, unsure if he should be kidding around right now.

Yuuri chuckled at Viktor's attempt to lighten the mood and decided to roll with it. He leaned forwards and brushed the tip of his index finger on Viktor's bottom lip. "I can always have Russian for dessert."

Viktor openly flushed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me some kudos to motivate me faster !!!
> 
> Still haven't decided what to do with Viktor's programs ughhhh.
> 
> I love Phichit's pov btw.
> 
> On a positive outlook, next chapter will have some well-deserved smut *wink wink*


	4. Collapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing: JJ Style!!
> 
>  
> 
> Viktor Nikiforov's comeback!
> 
>  
> 
> LOTS of tears!!
> 
>  
> 
> And some inappropriate flirting! (And this time not from Chris).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Unfortunately, the island I live in was impacted by hurricane Maria and it's been a difficult affair. I don't even have electricity back yet! But I'm glad I'll at least be able to post this chapter after so long. I hope I hadn't gotten rusty! Please don't give up on me! 
> 
> P.S. I know I promised some smut but the story took a different turn, so next chapter, without fail!

 

**January 2017**

**Toronto, Canada**

  
****

Jean-Jacques Leroy was good at many things, and he wasn’t afraid to boast about it. He was born in a large and loving family, and raised in a bland yet beautiful community. Among his siblings, cousins and classmates, he was just another child with a bright future ahead. Nothing about him was extraordinarily different, not even the elation he felt once his skates first touched ice. Every other kid had been just as ecstatic, and while the smiles his parents had given him were wider than any other time he’d witnessed, ever since then he had begun to feel bereft. This lack of something only grew as he got older, and so did his need to stand out. He was constantly compared to his parents, repeatedly told what to do by his coaches, always named as a _could be_ as a Junior skater, but never any more than that. As his sense of self increased in it’s deprivation, his overall scores in competitions kept plummeting. Frustration made a home out of his very pubescent bones, vibrating painfully every time he failed a landing of a jump. He couldn’t see himself in his routines, and hated the mere sight of his reflection.

His mother, a remarkably perceptive woman, had seen enough of her son’s bruises. She knew the weight of expectations was heavy on his young shoulders. She’d become anything her son needed her to be. Observing him with the eyes of a coach instead of a worried mother made her realize just what Jean-Jacques Leroy needed to become a sensation on and off the ice.

She had hoped he’d discover what he lacked on his own, but after a devastating short program at the 2011 Canada Junior Ice Figure Skating Nationals, she couldn’t hold her silence. _“JJ,”_ she had grabbed his miserable face with stern hands and sharp eyes to catch his full attention. _“Mama and Papa don’t need you to be like us. We need you to be you. There is only one JJ. Make sure that even if you fail, that they remember that.”_

Jean-Jacques Leroy’s ‘JJ-style!’ was born in the free style of that National competition. And it has never failed him since.

JJ’s absence of self in his actions was a revelation. He had mistreated, doubted, and hated himself for far too long. He knew then what he had to do to reach the heights he desired. He no longer saw entities like Viktor Nikiforov and his parents lightyears away from him. JJ now saw it every morning when he looked in the mirror. He just had to believe in himself.

Of course, this was far easier said than done. They don’t sell high self esteem and confidence in the drug stores. And as he began the seasons in the Senior league, he noticed and envied the way his competitors shined with brilliance.

To pretend was to eventually be, he had reasoned. Therefore, JJ became his own number one fan.He knew, on some level, that this rubbed an uncertain amount of people the wrong way. He tended to run his mouth quite often, and was perceived as annoyingly arrogant. As a result, JJ had tons of admirers and fans, but not nearly as many friends. In the privacy of his own mind and in his darkest anxiety, he’d confess only to himself that it was a miracle a woman as kind and as beautiful as his fiancee could ever love someone like him.

However, despite his complicated feelings towards himself, JJ knew he was good at a variety of things. He was good at skating, singing, math, and being a sensational celebrity (naturally, since one doesn’t grow a following like JJ’s overnight). He just wasn’t always good at reading people or situations or even himself at times.

And apparently, at this current moment, JJ was also _not_ very good in doing potentially embarrassing things for future wives.

JJ had lost track of the time he had spent standing at the hygiene isle of the local Rexall pharmacy. Isabella only asked him to buy her a new pack of tampons, but she didn't specify at all and JJ was, to the least, absolutely baffled.

“Why are there so many colors?” JJ whispered to himself, mildly disturbed. He knew he must’ve looked like a creep by now by how long he’d been simply staring at the menstrual products, not even daring to touch them. Oh god, he hated this. Last time he did this for his younger sister, it had been easier. She had sent him a picture, and he didn’t even spend more than a second in the store. Isabella had been busy when she called him with the request to bring a pack of tampons to her work after he was done with practice. _“Make sure they aren’t the large ones,”_ was all she specified. JJ, in all his obliviousness, had agreed like it was no big deal. Now, he was simply too prideful to ask Isabella for specifics.

At this rate, he was going to miss the short programs for the European Championships.

The thought spurred him into action, getting a little closer. Perhaps he should just get the most expensive one. Nothing but the best for his future wife after all. Closing his eyes, he took the first packet his hand touched in the more costly area and turned to head to the cashier.

_“You sure that one’s a good idea? It’s large sized.”_

“What?” JJ looked down to what he held, narrowing his blue eyes at the purple packet. Indeed, at the very corner, it read ‘large’. Jean-Jacques sighed, agitated. He swiftly made to turn back, until it occurred to him that a woman spoke to him. A _woman._

“Hey, would you mind-“ JJ glanced around only to see no one. Whoever it was, they moved fast. And here he was hoping to at least have a little help.

He’d have to get better at this on his own.

 

 

**Ostrava, Czech Republic**

 

Viktor Nikiforov hasn’t been nervous about a skating competition since he was in Juniors. The morning practice had been enough to settle his insides for a while, but the short program presentation was just less than half an hour away and his hands haven’t stopped trembling. Yuuri was meant to arrive in a couple minutes from the hotel, having gone to fetch Viktor’s olympic jacket and dance belt (his forgetfulness seemed to apparently reach new highs when high-strung). Yakov was giving Yuri his typical almost yelling pep talk a couple feet beside him as Viktor re-tied his skates for about the sixth time. Lilia was sitting next to him, silently sipping on a cup of coffee.

“Remember your knee injury in your second Senior year?”

“Ah,” Viktor blinked, hands freezing. Out of all things he’d expected to hear from Lilia right before a competition, that surely wasn't it. Viktor had missed an entire season because of a mistake made by overdoing it, and it had been near deadly for his mental health at the time. It wasn’t something he wanted to remember now. “What about it?”

Lilia waited until Viktor looked up at her to speak. She was giving him her standard stern expression, and was rightfully merciless to match. “That mistake cost you, just like this recent coaching one will. Don’t expect the best of yourself. The time of your reign is ending. You’re only here out of courtesy from the ISU as it is.”

 _Gee, thanks,_ Viktor thought to himself, grimacing. He knew she was only speaking the reality of the situation, but it wasn’t like he needed a reminder. Usually, he had a firm grasp of his composure but today proved to be much too tasking for that. “ _Da._ ” He made a motion to stand up and get away before his emotions got the better of him, but was stopped by Lilia’s hand on his forearm.

“Don’t misunderstand my intention,” Lilia let his arm go and her features softened just the tiniest bit when Viktor glanced her way. It was something that would’ve been missed by anyone except those who knew her. “I mean to say, don’t fall into pressure. Don’t expect. Merely _be_. You are the legend other skaters aspire to be. Including that future husband of yours, and Yuri. Enjoy it at your absolute fullest. You’ve given your best years to the ice. End it all with the biggest smile you’ve got, knowing that no one else will come close to the kingdom of greats you’ve built.”

Hearing about smiling from a person that barely does is ironic to Viktor. It wasn't enough to completely expel his doubts, but they were words to truly consider, specially considering they came from a person that knew what it must feel like to have to eventually retire from doing something they loved.

 _That’s right,_ Viktor looked ahead, at the arena before him, at the filling seats, at the ice, still and waiting. _How could I possibly forget? “_ Thank you, Lilia.”

She made a scoffing sound, waving her hand dismissively, and continued to sip at her cup of coffee like nothing had transpired.

Viktor stood up, stretching his arms, preparing himself for the warm-up that was surely to be announced soon. He spotted Yuuri on the way towards him, with his jacket cradled close to his chest and a smile dancing on his lips once he caught Viktor’s gaze. Viktor’s heart squeezed.

Viktor met him the rest of the way, ignoring Yakov’s call. On his skates like this, he was taller than normal, making Yuuri have to look up at him. _So cute._ “ _Spasibo_ , my love.”

Yuuri’s smile became softer. “Let’s go get you changed.”

At the privacy of an empty locker room, Viktor kisses Yuuri gently to distract himself after the last of his costume is re-set up. Yuuri caresses his cheeks when they part. His eyes are dashingly bright, like fire, reminding him of the first time Yuuri had ever been this close to him.

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispers, like a beloved secret. “Surprise me.”

“My Yuuri,” Viktor murmurs, mesmerized. _I could never disappoint my biggest fan._ “Don’t ever take your eyes off me.”

 

 

Sara Crispino had been feeling disquieted ever since she arrived for the Ladies Singles of the European Championships. Her short program earlier had gone pretty well, earning her the fifth place, but she felt oddly undeserving. A massive headache impeded her from thinking clearly throughout the entire program, and she was sure that her presentation score had suffered more than the judges gave her. But, Sara wasn’t one to dwell on the past. She thanked the gods, and hoped that by her free program, she’d be better concentrated. 

As of now, however, she focused on the Men’s Singles. She sat next to Mila in the audience, who was chatting away something about one of the Yuris, staring down at her brother. Emil was being his usual supportive self beside Mickey, and although Sara couldn’t hear what was being said, she knew them enough to say it must’ve been one of those funny but inappropriate jokes by the way Mickey flushed and kicked Emil back to his coach. Sara smiled, and cast her eyes to the other skaters. Little Yuri Plisetsky was surrounded by his coaches, nodding along to them, but eyes downcast. She wondered if he was nervous. The first time she ever competed in the European Championships as a Senior had been nerve-wrecking. It must’ve been worse for him now, considering the Winter Olympics were coming up, and for him to qualify, he surely needed more golds as a debuting senior. Not only that, but having to compete for the one spot available for Russia in the Olympics with none other than Viktor Nikiforov. Sara didn’t know if Viktor would stay that long, but if he did, she’d think that if Little Yuri did well enough, two slots for Russia would be permitted, like now.

As if sensing her gaze, Lilia Baranovskaya glanced her way steely. Mila laughed at Sara’s small ‘eep’. Despite having gone to multiple summer camps with the Madame, she was still so intimidating.

“You never got used to her, huh?” Mila grinned as she bumped their shoulders together. Despite getting wildly competitive on the ice, Sara and Mila had formed a bond over hidden treats at the Madame’s summer camps. They had both gotten caught on their third summer, and Lilia’s face of disapproval had been traumatic.

Sara to this day had never touched an anise biscuit again.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Sara muttered back to her, almost afraid Lilia could read her lips. The Madame turned away from them with a nod, and finally Sara could breathe again.

“Oh, looks like Yuuri is taking Viktor’s spot this time!”

Sara glanced where Mila was looking, observing the couple come out of the shadows unto the side of the rink. Viktor Nikiforov to her (as to many) has always been an enigma, an unreachable legend. Sara could still remember the day she had first caught sight of him. She had sworn he had been an angel at her young age. He had been the standard to live up to since his first gold, by everyone, to everyone, and the couches were obsessed. “Be the first female Viktor Nikiforov!” Sara had once overheard (which was ridiculous standards if you ask Sara, considering only one woman in ice figure skating history has done a quad).

It made him inaccessible, made others jealous and hateful. Sara had heard enough locker room giggles of women and men (for she would always find a way to be the first to congratulate her brother) who wished they could tame him and at the same time cursed and wished to destroy him in the same breath. Ultimately, it had left Viktor isolated from the ice skating community. It wasn’t like he had ever been unfriendly either, but Sara herself had never had an opportunity previously to even congratulate him. He was simply never there, seeming to keep everyone at a distance, and not like she could ever blame him. Seeing him with Yuuri Katsuki, though, another enigmatic skater who danced like the stars collapsed at his feet in his good days and collapsed along with them in his bad days, was like witnessing a real life fairy tale. Instead of making Viktor more human, it only made him brighter, and Yuuri no longer collapsed but reached out to the sun.

Needless to say, Sara was a hopeless romantic, and they gave her a hope she had never felt. She thought that if they could find true love, why couldn’t she? (Hence her recent constant texting to Seung-gil).

Sara watched Yuuri take Viktor’s ID as Yakov came up to them, and switched to the other skaters. Christophe Giacometti kept glancing at Viktor and Yuuri’s way amidst his conversation with his choreographer (who Mila gossiped to her is probably his secret bae) while he stretched. The Spanish skater behind them (Sara doesn’t remember his name) whose making his appearance yet again this year after an injury was obviously trying his best to zone out the view. _Chris has buns to die for, though._

Mickey never let her have a decent conversation with Christophe due to his, well, lewdness. Recently, though, Sara has been having weird dreams with the some of the men in the Men’s Singles division, so she wondered if it was sign that she should get closer to them. Mila loves hanging out with them, if you take her gossips into consideration. Last year’s Grand Prix Final banquet had been a blast as well, made Sara yearn to join them in the shenanigans.

Sara didn’t have many friends in or out of the skating community. All her rink mates back at home were pleasant but not socially engaging with her once they left the rink. Her closest friends at this point (excluding her brother) was Emil and Mila, and the prior wasn’t even by choice. Mila spoke fondly of her rink mates in ways Sara never spoke of hers. Phichit Chulanont, one of the most popular skaters by social media power alone, was always kind in supporting comments in her personal instagram, always nice enough to invite her to dinners alongside her brother, but they never went because, well, Michele was simply awkward (she didn’t know how Emil could stand it all the time). Yuuri and Viktor seemed to be the nucleus of all the skaters, too.

It made Sara wish to be closer to all of them, something she hadn't really cared about until now. They all seemed to be having the time of their lives, they keep getting stronger and more beautiful on the ice, almost effortlessly.

_Like something out of this world._

Sara has always only been hugged by her brother. Yuuri’s spontaneous hug made her feel included into something more.

Maybe she should try, in making friends. And seeing where it lead her in her skating as well. Perhaps this was all that she felt was missing.

When the warm up round was done, Mila and Sara were practically vibrating with excitement. The whole crowd seemed to have this vibe, mostly, Sara was sure, due to Viktor.

Since it was the first time he’d compete this season, Viktor was out first for the short program out of 18 ice figure skaters. He stepped unto the ice once he took off his olympic jacket and gave Yuuri his ice guards, Yakov crossing his arms in front of his chest in the background. The crowd became eerily silent at the view of his costume. White, with dashes of gray and blue, sparkling until it all turned black at the hems. It was beautiful.

Sara could’ve sworn she could hear Yuuri’s soft voice say something that made Viktor’s laugh resonate across the quiet rink. When his name was announced, the audience suddenly roared, and Viktor skated away from Yuuri with a kiss to his ring.

Sara and Mila shared a smile. _It was so adorable._ (Sara hoped she had been invited to the wedding).

When Viktor took the center of the rink, everything was hushed down again. His theme this year was _Godsend._ Ever since the announcement, many have been contemplated what his aim was with this. Speculators say it must’ve been that he’d found his inspiration at last.

Sara has an inkling it was deeper than that. Her instinct was proved right when the music began.

 

 

 

**Almaty, Kazakhstan**

 

Otabek sat beside one of his rink mates as their coach finished setting up the TV for the European Championship broadcast. He didn’t usually indulge in such activities with his rink mates, all much younger than him, and most being women, but his internet at his apartment wasn’t cooperating today, and he’d rather tolerate this than not see Yuri’s program and Viktor’s comeback.

“Ah! _Viktor Nikiforov nachinayet_ (is starting)!” The kid next to him beamed once the broadcast was displayed.

Otabek sat back, scanning him down. He hadn’t seen Viktor since the Grand Prix Final, and already he could tell he was more in shape than back then, like he never even took a season off. The music caught him off guard, surprising him (which he should’ve expected). Viktor usually had programs with a more theatrical genre in his Senior career, the _Agape_ being the closest to mild the man had ever choreographed. This short program, however, with it’s soft violin, and almost gleeful childlike piano, was nothing like the confident princely Viktor he had come to know. This, was more like Viktor in his junior years. Carefree, light.

It was interesting to watch that domineer in an older Viktor. Hypnotizing, even. The way he delicately went about the flicks of his wrists and the tentative swiftness of his strides was amazing, perfectly giving a graceful impression of one’s first steps on ice. Otabek can see that training alongside Yuuri made an impact in how Viktor treated his step sequences. He could see Yuuri in his hips, that moved like water.

Almost half way through the program, and Viktor had only done his spins, a quad toe loop and a triple axel, which was also very different from the usual.

_Did he plan to leave everything at the end like Katsuki does?_

Otabek was completely immersed, at the edge of his seat, not even paying attention to the broadcast commentators, which was odd for himself. There was something about the whole program, though, the music or the choreography or the presentation, just _something_ that called out to Otabek in a completely ethereal perspective. It tugged at his consciousness, like searching for a memory or having a word at just the tip of one’s tongue.

At the exact midpoint of the short program, everything changed. The music became faster, the notes stronger, darker. The violin was switched to a viola, the piano, a bass. The movements reckless, begging. A quad salchow, followed by a jump combination triple loop-triple flip-

And suddenly, it stopped.

Viktor Nikiforov collapsed.

It all became black.

 

 

**Bangkok, Thailand**

 

Phichit had begun crying out of nowhere.

He’s been like this ever since Viktor’s short program ended. He couldn’t even watch the scores or the rest of the skaters, his own sobs too loud to focus on anything but the feeling in his chest. He had curled up further in his bed, it being dark already in Bangkok city, and it has been hours.

He didn’t know what was happening exactly. It had been a bewitching performance, that much he could agree on with his own reaction, but his sorrow is far too intense for it to be a normal thing. He couldn’t even breathe.

The tears had stopped a short while ago but Phichit suspected it was only because he had no further liquid in his body.

_Is this an panic attack? Is this what Yuuri feels all the time?_

Phichit sat up at the thought of his best friend. He had thought he could handle it by himself, but he honestly didn’t even know where to start. He rarely cried as it was, he never needed comfort, never even yearned for it. But, he wanted a _hug._ He wanted to see Yuuri.

“Something is differently wrong with me these days,” Phichit whispered to himself as he dug around his blankets searching for his phone. He didn’t want to bother Yuuri, but he had to rest somehow for tomorrow’s training day, and he figured that Yuuri had enough experiences with…whatever he had going on inside to help him. It’s been long enough for Yuuri to at least be at his hotel room. Phichit could only hope he wasn’t interrupting anything (he normally would snicker to himself about this but he didn’t even have the energy for that).

It only ringed twice for Yuuri to answer.

_“No video call Phichit-kun? How unusual.”_

For an unknown reason, Yuuri’s voice stirred up the tears again. (Phichit was beginning to switch from panicking about this, to hating it).

“Yuuri, I,” _Dammit._ His voice was too hoarse.

“ _Phichit-kun? What’s wrong?”_

"Honestly,” Phichit sniffed and rubbed at his face. “I’ve been crying for, like, forever, Yuuri!”

_“Oh no, are the hamsters okay?”_

Phichit really must’ve sounded bad if Yuuri brought up the hamsters. “My babies are fine! Yuuri, your husband’s program made me cry and I haven’t stopped! How do I make it stop?”

Yuuri was quiet for a moment, and Phichit could hear some ruffling. _“That’s weird…”_

“No duh! It’s like I’m triggered!”

_“No, I mean, yes, but…the same thing happened to Chris.”_

Phichit blinked, rubbing one of his bloodshot eyes. “Huh?”

 _“I cried a little myself, as the audience did, it was beautiful,”_ Yuuri admits. _“But Chris could barely do his program from how bad it got to him. Viktor felt sort of guilty, so he’s actually out checking on him. Didn’t you see his performance? He failed all his quads.”_

“I couldn’t watch anymore,” Phichit frowned, switching the phone from one ear to the other. At a squeak from one of the hamsters, he glanced their way. “I feel a bit bitter knowing I wasn’t alone in the hysterics, and a bit bad for Chris, but how do I make it stop?”

_“I’ll need to see your face for that.”_

“Are you bribing me? I look hideous!”

_“All the better! I’ve never gotten to see you all wrecked and teary, you’ve seen me far too many times.”_

 

 

**Ostrava, Czech Republic**

 

_“You’re so mean sometimes, Yuuri.”_

Yuuri smiled down at the image of Phichit on his phone, eyebrows furrowing just a little in worry. Phichit looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Exhaustion was noticeable in the bags under his eyes and the tear stains on his cheeks. “Oh, Phi.”

Phichit scoffed, hiding half of his face under one of his blankets. Yuuri sighed, settling down on one of the love seats by the suite’s window, feeling nice and fresh from a good shower. “What did you think of it? Of Viktor’s program?”

 _“It was…different,”_ Phichit scrunched his face in thought, voice raspy. _“Sad, traumatic if you ask me. If that was his goal, he nailed it right on my unsuspecting heart. You helped him compose that, didn’t you? I could see elements of you in it.”_

Yuuri blushed and fixed his glasses, making Phichit giggle. Viktor’s short program had stirred peace and such overwhelming love inside Yuuri. He had felt like a fanboy all over again. “It took me a while to let myself be honest with his programs, but…yes. He hasn’t let me see a thread of it’s finished result, though, until now.”

 _“He wanted to surprise you,”_ Phichit’s eyes twinkled, and more tears spilled.

“Phichit-kun!” Yuuri was alarmed. He’d never seen Phichit like this, in all the three years they’ve known each other (two of which they lived together). He didn’t like it. Phichit wasn’t this emotional, but in hindsight, nor was Chris. This was getting suspicious. The last night conversation with Viktor echoed in his mind.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri murmured, looking away once Phichit starts attempting to clean his face. “You haven’t been sleeping well these past few days, have you?”

 _“Is it that obvious?”_ Phichit flashed a weak smile. _“Ciao Ciao hasn’t let me touch the ice this entire week.”_

“Migraine again?”

_“Yeah…”_

Yuuri pursed his lips. “And have you taken any meds?”

 _“I tried,”_ he gave a sheepish shrug, from what Yuuri could tell. “ _You know I hate having to take pills. I feel like I can get over anything on my own.”_

“Maybe you’re just letting some steam out, then. You haven’t been resting as you should, and haven’t actually skated for a few days, you must be missing it too,” Yuuri paused, hesitating. He knew that he could trust Phichit to take him seriously, but, Yuuri didn’t know if it’d be wise to express the kind of worries that haunted him at this moment. He didn’t know if it would bother Viktor if he told Phichit about his supernatural experience with Chris, specially since none of them even knew what was going on. But, maybe this was all linked. It couldn’t be mere chance, could it?

 _“You’re totally right, I do miss the ice,”_ Phichit changed positions, the screen going black for a millisecond to then see him sitting up against his bed’s headboard. Yuuri can see his firm resolve. _“I think I could sneak into the rink in an hour or so. I’ll just pull a Yuuri.”_

Yuuri rolled his eyes at Phichit’s laugh. It wasn’t so forced, though, which made Yuuri glad. “It must be 12:00 am over there, be careful.”

“ _I always am!”_

Yuuri hummed, looking over the empty room at the sound of a loud _thump._ Seeing nothing out of order, he paid his full attention Phichit’s way. _“Ne_ , Phichit-kun, have you felt anything else this out of the ordinary?”

Phichit face became blank. _“What do you mean?”_

“Um,” Yuuri grimaced, setting his phone down for a moment by the seat’s armrest so he could stretch his arm (holding a phone for so long in the same position was a pain). “I don’t know how to explain, exactly, so bare with me? I’ve been having some weird dreams as of late, this time with a little boy. Viktor…also had an out of body experience the other day, as well as Chris. These hysterical attacks from Chris and you were so random, too, I just think, maybe it’s linked? Have you had any other problems except the migraine?”

 _“I,”_ Phichit frowned, contemplating. _“Now that you mention it, I’ve been having the oddest nightmares, but I never remember them. And the other day…”_ Phichit leaned in, comically looking around his room. Yuuri chuckled at his paranoia.

“You won’t be anymore of a weirdo to me, no matter what you say, Phichit-kun.”

_“Oh, shush…I think I just might be…?”_

Yuuri cocked his head to the side, taking the phone in his hands. “Eh?”

 _“I just,”_ Phichit huffed, obviously embarrassed about what he was gonna say. Yuuri stared in rapt attention. An embarrassed Phichit always meant an interesting situation. _“Lately, right, I don’t remember my dreams, but I, sometimes, remember the faces. And, okay, it normally isn’t like anything out of the ordinary, you can dream of people and it doesn’t mean anything! At least that’s what Guang-hong says-”_

“You’re blabbering, Phichit.”

 _“Ah,”_ he sighed. “ _The same day I dreamt of Seung-gil Lee, I saw him in my bathroom mirror. But, that’s it. I think I’m just sleep deprived. It felt really real though. For a moment, I could’ve sworn he was with me in there.”_

Phichit switched hands, making the image shaky on the live video. Yuuri’s expression was stoney as he processed what Phichit said. To Yuuri, it was similar to what happened to Viktor. In a weird perspective, this was relieving. They weren’t losing their minds alone at least. However, how did these…phenomenons even happen? Hearing voices, switching bodies, hysterical crying, migraines, seeing people in mirrors that were miles away. What was this affecting them? Why? The only thing that Yuuri could pin-point that they had as a common factor were that they were male skaters, but that was about it. It wasn’t even about them being close with each other either (if one were to think about it as a contagious illness), since Seung-gil was now somehow involved, it was simply too much of a coincidence for him not to be, and they didn’t really know the Korean. He might’ve taken too long thinking about it, since Phichit grew even more restless as the silence stretched on.

_“Yuuri?”_

“Ah, sorry,” Yuuri smiled sheepishly, nervous energy beginning to flicker inside him. Somehow, Yuuri wasn’t feeling as crept out by all this, at least not as much as he should be, and that in itself freaked him out. He knew things happened without explanations many times, and ever since Viktor came crashing into his life, he’s been trying not to question the fates like he used to, to simply thank his blessings and keep on going. But this, whatever this was, was effecting his friends, his beloved, and himself. He half expected to be woken up from a dream. “I think…we’re going through something similar, Phichit. Would you believe me if I said it might be something supernatural?”

Phichit grinned, white teeth sharp. _“Supernatural, Yuuri? Like super powers?”_

Yuuri snorted. “I don’t-”

“Katsudon!” A series of knocks commenced on his door, startling Yuuri badly enough for his phone to slip from his hand unto the carpeted floor.

_“Uh-oh, that sounds like angry little Yurio.”_

Yuuri stood and picked up his phone. “Coming!” He checked his phone for any damage before giving the patient Phichit a wave. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Go to the rink and stretch those legs.”

_“Will do! Thanks for listening to me! Lā kxn (Goodbye)!”_

Yuuri smiled softly and whispered his goodbye as he neared his hotel room door. Hanging up, he set his phone in his robe’s front pocket and grabbed the door handle. “Yura?”

“No, who do you think it is, Makkachin? Let me in already!”

Yuuri resisted the urge to roll his eyes and sighed. He unlocked and opened the door, only to be shoved aside and for Yuri to slam the door closed before he could even yelp.

Yuri gave Yuuri a scathing look once he locked the door. “Could you be any slower? Yakov could've passed by! Or worse, Lilia! And, ew, why are you wearing a bath robe?”

Yuuri huffed, brushing back his wet hair from his face. He was used Yuri's way of life by now, so it didn't really bother him as much as it used to back at their first meeting. “I was showering before you came screaming about."

He turned around and kneeled before his opened luggage, trying to think of what to wear. “What are we gonna be up to since you managed to escape confinement?”

Yuri pressed his lips together as he observed Yuuri for a moment. If Yuri was going to be totally honest, he didn't really have an exact plan or anything. Earlier, he had seen Viktor and Christophe heading out of the hotel to god knows where and after a couple of hours of social media and angry dwelling over how Viktor almost broke his short program record by 0.6 points and Otabek ignoring his texts, Yuri decided he wasn't going to stay confined in his hotel room like some loser and sneaked out the moment Yakov was asleep enough for his snores to rock the bed. Somehow, he had ended up in front of Viktor's and Yuuri's hotel room. Yuuri looked like he was ready for a meal, which made Yuri's random idea reasonable. “Want to go eat?”

 

 

“ _Oushii_ (Delicious)!” Yuuri wasn't so into Russian food (except the occasional cuisines Yuri's grandfather and Lilia sometimes sent them via Yuri) but he had to admit that this particular borscht from this particular restaurant was good enough to cry about. It's either that or he's hungrier than he originally thought.

Yuri snorted as he scrolled through his Instagram. “Pig, check this out.”

Yuuri glanced up from his food when Yuri showed him his phone screen. It was Viktor, Chris, and Chris's boyfriend on a bench in front of a monument. Viktor was sitting on their laps in a wooed manner, head tipped back, hand on forehead, and eyes closed. Chris's boyfriend (his name always escaped Yuuri) seemed to be trying hard not to let Viktor fall and was caught mid-laugh, Chris was cradling one of Viktor's ankle, pressed up against his boyfriend with a wink.

 

[image]

 

Liked by phichit+chu, sara-crispino, and 344,988 others

christophe-gc oh, when will @v-nikiforov's husband return from war. #cruelYuriK #CoachViktorfinallythirdwheeling #savehimYuriK

 

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Yuuri scoffed, a humorous grin appearing on his face. He was glad Christophe managed to feel better, at least. “ _Baka_ (Idiot).” 

Yuri perked up at the Japanese language, setting his phone down. “What does that mean again?”

Yuuri shook his head. “It means 'idiot', but-”

“Oh, that's gold.” Yuri took his phone back, tapping at the screen to then turn around in his seat and rising his phone so the front camera can see both of them. “Let's make a video calling Viktor an idiot.”

Yuuri laughed, shrugging and leaning forward, elbow resting on the table and chin on palm. He had an easy smile, Yuri smirking in response, flipping his long hair back and sticking out his tongue. In unison, they said, “ _Baaaaaakaaaa_.”

 

 

Christophe Giacometti and Masumi were laughing at Viktor's affronted face as he watched the small clip Yura posted on his Instagram. The both of them looked so adorable, though, so Viktor was so incredibly conflicted. He looked at Chris with glistening eyes. “My boys! Why must they be so cruel?”

Masumi snorted and nearly choked on his wine in the process. Chris snickered, patting his lover on the back. “You’ve got it bad, Viktor.”

Viktor shrugged, setting his phone down after giving the video a ‘like’ and giving the couple a pleasant smile. The three of them were currently in a rustic-looking tavern, where indie music played live and the atmosphere was calm and dim-lit. “I’ve never been happier.”

“Your short program could differ that. I’ve honestly never seen such a dark routine from you, Viktor,” Chris sighed at Viktor’s solemn expression. “No, enough of that. I told you that how I reacted to it wasn’t your fault.”

“If anything, I think it might help Chris explore other options for his programs,” Masumi looked off to the side nonchalantly, ignoring Chris’s whine. The man leaned forward on the round table towards Viktor. “What influenced a program like that anyway? It was like watching a god die.”

“I think it’ll make better sense once you watch the free skate,” Viktor lightly tapped his glass, thoughtful. He’d put a lot of work into his programs, and since this season might be his last, he decided to bring himself bare unto the ice. He expected it to be good, expected it to surprise others, but nothing like the impact it’s had. He’d had to dodge so many reporters, it was a miracle he somehow made it to the small bar they were at without being spotted. Career-wise, he’s ecstatic. Nothing better than making an absolute bomb of his last season. Yuuri’s reaction, however, had been the best of the surprises.

 _“I want to have you all to myself once we get to the suite. I want to surprise you as much as you just surprised me,”_ Yuuri had whispered unto his ear. Of course, after that, Christophe’s breakdown had been a big mood breaker.

He’ll never tell that to Chris, though, less he start crying again. Nothing upset Christophe more than missed sexual escapades.

“Ugh, let me out, I have to go to the bathroom,” Masumi staggered out of the booth after Christophe stood up.

“Do you need any help?” Chris watched after him, worried about his lover’s intoxication levels. Masumi had always been a lightweight. The retired ice dancer just waved him off.

Chris sat back down and glared at Viktor. “You better not make me cry again with your free skate tomorrow. It’s not beautiful at all.”

Viktor chuckled, taking his glass and raising it eye-level. “No promises. Although, I will hope you can do better for your free skate.”

“That’s where it always counts after all, don’t count me out yet,” Chris tapped his wine glass with Viktor’s and they both chugged don the rest of it. After a moment, Chris clucked his tongue. “Are we going to talk about it now?”

Viktor furrowed his silver eyebrows, setting down the glass gently. “I honestly don’t know what to say about it. I feel like it must have something to do with the supernatural, but it’s just a guess. We could really be just going crazy.”

“Supernatural, huh?” Christophe thinned his lips. “Like what happened to your grandparents?”

Viktor visibly cringed, just the mention of it opening doors he doesn’t want open. “I could only hope not.”

“Have you told Yuuri?”

“Not yet. After all of this, I think I will,” Viktor brushed his hair back, seeming agitated. “I’ve never actually had to tell anyone. You somehow found out just on your own. I was hoping that as big as fan Yuuri was, he’d know about it already.”

“Unless Yuuri knew Russian when he was kid, I doubt he’d find out. Besides, the article only talks about the facts of the incident, nothing about what you suspected happened,” Chris’s eyes turned soft, reaching out to Viktor and giving him a pat on his shoulder. “Yuuri accepts you fully, Viktor. You have to put more trust in the fact that he won’t run away. He was the only one that wasn’t sobbing like an idiot at your short. I suspect it’s because he knows you more than any of us do, maybe even more than yourself.”

Viktor hummed in response, leaning back on the wooden booth. “He’s experiencing some nightmares about a boy, too.”

Chris’s eyes widen. “Like Lilia had before they found you?”

Viktor nodded, seeming far away. “Do you think Lilia knows more than she lets on?”

“That woman? Of course. I’m pretty sure she reads minds.”

“She said just the right things before I took the ice today,” Viktor said. “I didn’t think too much about it until later. Something stuck with me. She rarely compliments anyone, and she’s been giving Yuuri and me weird looks.”

Christophe’s expression darkened. “Do you think she might be homophobic?”

“No,” Viktor shook his head, almost entirely sure that wasn’t the case. She’d been the first person to know about Viktor’s sexual orientation, and despite the regulations against homosexuals in Russia at the time when he’d been a teen, she had only protected him. “It’s only recently.”

“Awww, the mood is all _triste_ (sad),” Masumi whined as he arrived, sitting down on Chris’s expecting lap gracelessly. “ _Pouvons-nous partir? Je veuz sucer ta bite_ (Can we leave? I want to suck your dick).”

Chris flushed. “Masumi!”

Viktor laughed full-heartedly and stood up. “ _Je suppose que je vais prendre mon congé_ (I suppose I’ll take my leave).”

Masumi blinked and looked up at Viktor. “I forgot you spoke French. Sorry, I just get really turned on when Chris does his short, and it’s always awkward walking around with a hard on, and he only makes it worse by whispering dirty things every chance he gets-”

“ _Mon amour_ (My love)! _”_

“Okay! _Dasvidanya_!”

 

 

“You didn’t have to bring me to my room, Katsudon,” Yuri muttered once they reached his door. After eating and walking around stores, they’ve gotten tired and decided to head back. Yuri stills looks like he has something in mind, though, so Yuuri thought he’d keep buying the kid time so he’d work up the courage to say whatever he wanted to say. This wasn’t the first time Yuri did this. He tended to confide a lot in Yuuri ever since his stay in Hasetsu, and Yuuri liked being there for the angry kitten. 

“This way if Coach Yakov is awake, you can blame me,” Yuuri smirked, shoving his shoulder with the younger boy’s in a friendly gesture. “We Yu(u)ris got to stick together.”

Yuri chuckled lightly, looking off to the side for a few seconds before glancing back at Yuuri. “Do you think you can beat Viktor?”

Yuuri sighed through his nose with a small grin. “I don’t really know. He’s amazing, isn’t he? But I’m excited all the same, to just be able to at least try.”

Yuri nodded seriously as if this answered all the questions and took out his hotel card to swipe the door open. “Goodnight, Katsudon.”

“Hai.”

Yuuri watched him close the door after him, and slumped a little, walking away. He’d been hoping they’d take a bit more time. He didn’t want to go back to an empty room, since surely Viktor will be back a little later. Yuuri slightly regretted not going with them, but he just hadn’t felt like it. Now, though, he just wanted Viktor back.

He pressed the elevator button to go up.

_“Katsuki?”_

Yuuri looked up and turned to where the voice came from. Jean-Jacques stood a couple doors down the hallway, confused and wearing pajamas with little gold medal patterns.

“JJ?” Yuuri knitted his eyebrows together, equally as perplexed. “What are you doing here?”

 _“I was…”_ JJ made a full circle as he looked around. This wasn’t his house. _“Where am I?”_

“Where…” Yuuri’s face suddenly became pale, feeling trepidation rise and his hands tremble. “Where do you think you are?”

_“JJ?”_

Abruptly, Yuuri was at a completely different hallway. A black-haired woman stood in front of him with a worried look on her face as she caressed his cheeks. Yuuri gasped, stepping back, and tripping down with his own feet in the process.

“JJ! What’s wrong?” The woman frantically asked, but Yuuri couldn’t hear her over the rush of blood in his ears. He curled within himself, not understanding, not processing. He didn’t feel like himself, even his cries weren’t his, his body felt even bigger. What was this? What’s happening?

Where was he?!

_“Yuuri!”_

Viktor’s voice snapped through Yuuri’s racing thoughts. Searching for the voice, Yuuri raised his head from his protective cocoon to see that he was back at the hotel’s hallway with Viktor kneeling in front of him between the elevators doors. Viktor’s face was red and eyes were wide with concern, and Yuuri only felt relief flood through him like fresh icy water.

“Viktor!” Yuuri threw himself to Viktor’s arms, shaking like leaf as Viktor made soft cooing noises, patting his back.

“What happened, z _oloste?”_ Viktor whispered, his arms tightening around his beloved. “I swear I can feel your distress. Is this an anxiety attack?”

“N-No,” Yuuri shook his head and let his hold go a little to look into sad blue eyes. “I think I just switched with JJ.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please comment!


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